Caged Bird
by V. Revon
Summary: All she had done was a little light thievery. It was hardly fair punishment to become a prisoner on the starship Finalizer, privy to the whims of violent Commander Kylo Ren. But Ana was a survivor. She had always been a survivor. Eventual Kylo/OC, rated M for language, violence, and suggestive themes.
1. The Pickpocket

" _Thief_!"

Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, boots thundering along the metal catwalks of Level 2172. She shoved her way through a group of people, knocking one of them over.

"Stop that girl!" Four sets of boots pounded after her. A woman screamed, and a blaster beam shot over the shoulder of the girl in question, whizzing past her left ear.

She hurled her body over the railing of the catwalk, to the accompaniment of more screams, and landed hard on the grating below. Just a bit farther, just a bit farther to the portals—

Another blaster shot struck the metal floor just in front of her, sparking, and she yelped.

"Stop, thief!" came a booming voice.

She turned slowly, right hand closed tight on the object she'd pilfered from a very officious-looking man hovering around Ghrrik's place. On the catwalk above, that very man had a blaster aimed for her head. He was red-faced with anger, sweating, his uniform unbuttoned at the collar and his hat missing. Behind him stood three soldiers, their armor all white, their faces masked—Stormtroopers.

"Return what you have stolen!" he demanded. "Or I will order my men to open fire!"

"This little thing?" she murmured, opening her palm to reveal a very small, thin, black and yellow card. "So angry over a few credits? I'm sure the First Order can spare it for a poor girl."

"You have until the count of three!"

"How droll." She let it drop from her hand—four pairs of eyes watched it fall, and in the moment of distraction she grabbed a metal sphere from her hip and chucked it onto the catwalk. It burst in a brilliant explosion of light and sparks and smoke, and when its effects had cleared the girl and the card were gone.

* * *

"You mean to say, Lieutenant," said General Hux in a dangerously low voice, "that the data was stolen by a _street rat_?"

"The urchin witnessed the exchange." Back on board the _Finalizer_ , Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka stared straight ahead and did his best to regulate his breathing. It wouldn't do to show further weakness in front of his commanding officer. "She mistook the data for a credit chip and lifted it from my pocket as I was leaving the alley."

General Hux breathed slowly through his nose, hands clasped behind his back to keep them from shaking. "Putting aside the fact that you allowed a waif to pick your pocket, how is it exactly that she managed to evade not only you, but your accompanying soldiers as well?"

"She…" Mitaka cleared his throat. "She had some kind of...flash bomb, sir."

In, out. Hux's breath wheezed, the only sound in the quiet, stark meeting room. "You are to return to Coruscant and retrieve the data. No mistakes this time, Lieutenant."

Abruptly, the temperature of the room chilled. Mitaka's spine tensed. _Ren._

"Perhaps—" Ah, there it was, the terrifying, cold metallic rattle of his morphed voice. "—there is someone to be sent who can do a better job at retrieval. Your lieutenant has been thwarted before by a _girl_."

Ren was of course talking about the earlier failures to retrieve the BB unit, Mitaka realized with a wince. But those circumstances had been entirely different, and the desert girl had revealed herself to be a powerful Force user, powerful enough to even defeat—

An invisible hand closed around Mitaka's throat, cutting off his air. "Careful with those thoughts, Lieutenant," hissed Commander Ren. "The fact remains you have proven to be quite unreliable when young females interfere. I am suggesting that someone more capable go in your place; however, I can easily alter my suggestion to recommend you be replaced _entirely_ and reassigned to the sanitation department."

"Who are you suggesting, Ren?" asked Hux. It was clear through his tone that he was used to the Commander's demands; he sounded tired, as one exhausted after a five year old's temper tantrum.

"Myself, of course." Ren dropped his hold of Mitaka and the lieutenant gasped for breath. "If you want something done right, and so on." His cloak billowed behind him as he left.

"General, I apologize—"

Hux's hard eyes fell back to his lieutenant. "I have no use for apologies, Mitaka. Let's hope your mistake does not cost us." The other man scrambled from the room, and when he was gone Hux relaxed his shoulders with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "God help us all when Ren finds the girl. I shall never hear the end of it." What mattered most, he tried to remind himself, was the First Order. The girl needed to be found, the data retrieved. Ren was arguably more qualified than most and was hungry to prove himself to Leader Snoke after his embarrassing defeat on Starkiller. Let Ren do it. Hux would put up with his insufferable attitude.

Yes, as long as the data was retrieved, and their mission accomplished, he could deal with the petulant child that was Kylo Ren.

* * *

She awoke to the quiet clink of cooling metal and gentle purr of a jumpspeeder as it shut off. She lifted her right hand in front of her face and stared hard at the black and yellow card pinched between her middle and index fingers.

"All that anger," she whispered, "for a credit chip that doesn't even work."

"Ana!" A lanky, orange-skinned Twi'lek appeared in her line of vision, tucking his visor helmet under one arm. "Sleeping again?"

Anavexi Tam sat upright, rubbing the back of her stiff neck. The air on Level 1168 was rank, borderline toxic, and for a moment she gratefully breathed in the smell of the warm jumpspeeder engine. "Get anything useful, Elek?"

"Artesiatic dampener," he said, gesturing to the starship engine part strapped to the side of his speeder. "Good condition, a collector will pay a premium for it, don't you think?"

Anavexi smiled at him. "Where's Thena? She have any luck?"

"Saw her lurking near one of the embassies on 5126," said Elek. "She'll be down after she finishes charming a wealthy diplomat out of a few credits. Anything on your end?"

She lifted the thin card and grimaced. "Stole this off a First Order officer, but apparently they don't pay their men too well. I tried it at a terminal and it spat the damn thing back out at me. He must've drained it all on one of Ghrrik's girls or something."

Elek's face leveled, his expression going stern. "You targeted an officer in the First Order?"

Anavexi shrugged. "Sure, he was pissed, but it's not like it's going to come back to bite me. What kind of officer would he be if he admitted he lost his money to an undercity girl on Coruscant?"

"That's not the point, Ana." Elek cupped her face, searching for injuries. He didn't miss the singed hair on her left temple from where the blaster shot had passed her, but she brushed away his concern. "You keep going after more dangerous targets. Do you have a death wish?"

She met his gaze. "This is about surviving down here, Elek. It's always been about surviving."

Thena arrived a few minutes later, falling gracefully out of the portal from the levels above, a small, young-looking Mirialan with big, pale blue eyes. A small geometric tattoo stood out on her pale olive skin, just below her right cheekbone. She smiled at Anavexi and held out a fistful of credit chips. Elek whooped and cheered her success. Thena never said a word.

In all the years Ana had known her, Thena had never spoken. She assumed it was due to something that had occurred before Anavexi found her, cold and thin and trembling underneath a hollowed wreck of a downed cruiser. Everyone had something tragic about their past. She was sure if she asked, Elek would give her a sob story about a dead brother or childhood accident—shit, even that red-faced man from the First Order probably had an abusive dad or something. Ana had never pestered Thena about it. She'd merely given the starving Mirialan a jacket and a piece of stale bread, and the girl had loyally followed her ever since.

"Good girl," Ana murmured, patting her head. Thena beamed up at her, but the smile dropped when she noticed the tension in Anavexi's face.

Thena tugged at her hand, pulling her into a sitting position. Ana sighed with exasperation.

"I don't want to meditate, Thena," she snapped. "It's just been a rough day."

Thena ignored her, folding her legs into the correct position. She inhaled, lifting her chest up, exhaled loudly through her mouth, and waved her hands at Ana.

"This won't help, Thena." Despite her words, Anavexi copied the Mirialan. She inhaled through her nose, exhaled through her mouth, and relaxed her clenched fists.

Thena did it again and waited for Ana. After the fourth deep breath, Ana rolled her shoulders. Thena reached over and tapped a finger to the crease between her brows. Anavexi closed her eyes, breathed deeply again. It did help. Thena always helped. It reminded Ana of the training her grandmother had put her through, slow calculated moves and counts to eight and always a deep-rooted sense of calm. Keep your mind blank, Anavexi, and your body sharp. The memory put tension back into her shoulders but Thena moved behind her and pressed her small hands down. Three more breaths, and Ana felt lighter. She reached up and gave Thena's hands a squeeze. The artificial lights cast an eerie glow over the girl's face when she looked up.

"They'll dim the lights soon," she said. "We ought to eat before then, don't you think?"

* * *

Kylo Ren skulked out of his command shuttle on the surface of Coruscant. Filthy Republic-sympathizing planet. How could it fall so far from the days of Palpatine? He knew from Mitaka's report that the data chip had been stolen on one of the lower levels of Coruscant's undercity. 2172. He hated the crowded atmosphere of the planet, the overpopulated hub of what was essentially one enormous city. Airspeeders whizzed by and behind his mask, Ren's mouth twisted into a scowl. Find the girl, kill her quickly, get the data chip, and get out.

He ordered his troops to fan out to the other levels, covering 2173 and 2171 as well. There was no chance of a street rat escaping him.

No chance.

* * *

AN: Hi all! Please review, I'd really appreciate it-especially constructive comments. Have I hooked you? Have I not? Do you hate Ana yet? Review and let me know!


	2. Mistaken

Anavexi shook the clouds from her head and focused on the mark just ahead of her. Thena had looked so distraught when Elek told her about the First Order officer. He wasn't wrong when he said she'd been selecting more dangerous targets. They were necessary for the three of them to survive. Thena's begging on the higher levels wasn't enough, Elek selling the odd machine part here and there on the black market wasn't enough. The bigger the risk, the bigger the payout. They'd realize it soon; everything she did, she did for them. To survive.

For Thena, for now, she'd pick a few easier marks. Once they got hungry, they'd forget all about the officer. The new target was a pudgy man, too clean for the undercity—he patted his stomach, peering closely at the neon signs. He was probably looking for Ghrrik's place. They always were on this level. Ghrrik's girls were known within twenty levels for their "skills." Ana suppressed a shudder. She could spot one of those clients easily. She knew them too well.

 _Now,_ whispered a little voice in her head. She raised her hood and pulled it low over her eyes, rounding a corner toward the man. She attempted to breeze around behind him, hands nimbly sliding his wallet from his back pocket. She slipped it up her sleeve when suddenly he turned, knocking into her shoulder.

"Oh!" he said.

The force of the collision knocked her loose hood back. She put on a demure expression, averting her eyes, and threw a tremor into her voice for good measure. "I-I'm sorry, sir, I wasn't paying attention."

His small, beady eyes lit up when he saw her face and her stomach turned. "It's no matter, my dear, it's no matter at all."

She dipped her head again, but he caught her arm before she could escape.

"Don't run off yet!" he said, a smile spreading across his face. "You've got a beautiful face, why don't you stay a while? I'll pay you, of course, don't be shy—" His other hand was reaching for his pocket. Her eyes followed it but she knew he'd find it empty, so the panic that creeped in on his disgustingly eager expression was no surprise. She ripped away from the man's slack grip and broke into a run. By the time he shouted after her, she had disappeared.

When she was one level up, she hid in a shadow and delved into her spoils. One credit chip, a bit of cash, some useless identification cards—ew, he was a teacher. Foreign languages. Ana made a face and chucked the ID cards, tucking the wallet into a pouch on her left side. Not enough, never enough. This wouldn't feed them tomorrow. Tonight, maybe, maybe…

Then she caught sight of the Stormtrooper. She tugged on her hood again and watched. Was it one of the soldiers from yesterday? Was it a new soldier? Why did they all have to look like clones?

At the very least, this trooper had a different gun. She didn't recognize it, the white detailing on the barrel, a sight fastened on the top. Her interest peaked. A new trooper meant a new officer in need of escort, didn't it? A new officer. _Maybe this one has deeper pockets._

She crept after the Stormtrooper, watching him meet up with a partner. She had nearly caught up enough to overhear them when someone pulled her into an alley, their hand over her mouth.

She shoved the hand away. "Elek!" she hissed. "What the fuck?"

"You were going after another First Order target, weren't you?" he said, voice ringing with accusation.

"I…" She groaned. "We need the money, Elek."

"They're looking for you," he said.

"What? How can you possibly—"

"Thena heard them talking two levels down and came to get me," he said. "And on 2172, at Ghrrik's, I saw—"

Elek stopped, his face pale.

"Saw what?" she pressed. "I was just there, Elek, there wasn't—"

"I saw Kylo Ren."

Ana couldn't help it. She knew it was cruel to laugh at him when he seemed so genuinely concerned, but truly he was being ridiculous.

"Kylo Ren," she repeated. Her cheeks hurt from laughter, her eyes watering.

"Keep your voice down!"

"Kylo Ren," she said, choking back her giggles. "Commander of the First Order, one of the most murderous men in the galaxy, is here over a little empty credit chip?"

Elek's jaw was set; she had made him angry with her flippancy. "Whether you believe me or not, we have to get down to the lower levels and hide out for a while, until they leave. Please, Ana."

"We can't hide out for longer than a day," she protested. "Thena's got to eat."

" _Please._ "

Anavexi relented and gave a nod, and Elek took her hand to lead her away.

"There she is!" The Stormtroopers noticed almost as soon as Elek pulled her from the alley. "You there!"

"Ana, run!" Elek dragged her along, bolting away from the soldiers. She almost fell with the sudden urgency of it. How did they recognize her? Had the other officer been able to give that accurate of a description?

"Ana!" Elek was shouting for her to focus. "Come on, we've got to make it to the vents—"

The shot from the blaster took him down quick. His hand fell from hers and he dropped; she nearly tripped over him.

"Elek?" Her sight was blurry. She knelt by him, shaking him by the shoulder as his eyes stared past her. "Elek, we've gotta go. Come on, get up. I'm sorry, okay, you win."

He wasn't moving, and she had lingered too long. She staggered to her feet as the soldiers fired again, and she screamed at the pain blossoming along her left side. The blaster beam burned through her thick cloak, through the pouch—through the wallet she'd just stolen and the money Thena needed—

 _Thena._

Anavexi could see her through her haze, crouched by some crates just ahead. Was she hallucinating? Why was Thena here? Thena shouldn't be here.

"Go," Ana croaked.

Thena shook her head ferociously, lifting her hand. She crossed her ring finger over her pinkie, a gesture they had exchanged since Ana had found her.

Worry settled hard in the pit of her stomach. She flicked her eyes past Thena, trying to signal her to leave. Again, the small Mirialan shook her head no and crossed her pinkie.

There were people watching, people gathering and staring; enough to keep the Stormtroopers from seeing Thena if she just stayed hidden, if she just stayed.

Ana turned to face the troopers; when they approached her, weapons drawn, Ana spat at them. One moved to strike her with the butt of his blaster rifle. She closed her eyes and waited...and waited... _still waiting._

What the fuck?

She cracked her eyes open. The Stormtrooper was frozen, the rifle raised.

"How troublesome." Panic spiked through her at the deep, altered voice. "Where is the data chip?"

She felt her brow furrow. "Data chip? What data chip?"

The Stormtrooper was released from whatever hold had been placed on him, but then the Force was redirected to Ana. Her entire body was constricted like something was squeezing her chest. The Stormtroopers stepped aside to reveal a tall, imposing figure clad in all black. It was the mask her eyes focused on.

"Kylo Ren, enforcer of justice, hm?" she said. Her voice shook with emotion, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. "Is a little pickpocketing really worth your attention?"

He said nothing, unreadable in the mask, and circled her. She tried to ignore that he had to step over Elek's body to do so.

"I haven't stolen any data chip, you've got the wrong thief." She tried to smile but couldn't muster the strength to hold it. "And usually I'm pretty fond of taking credit for things I didn't do."

"We shall see," said Ren, and then he was reaching into her mind.

* * *

A/N: I was going to build this up longer but I think this works better than I originally envisioned! Kylo is not a happy commander...

Please review and let me know what you think!


	3. Iron

_Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth._

 _You are in a room, Ana. There are no doors. No windows. No one can get into your room. What are the walls made of?_

 _Iron, Grandma._

 _Very good, Ana. That room is your mind. No one can enter without your permission. No one can get in if you don't build a door._

* * *

She could smell burnt fabric and the rusty tang of her own blood. Iron. _I am in an iron room._

Ren pulled back from her mind, mask betraying nothing of whatever expression may lie beneath, but when he lifted his hand from his side it was shaking.

He held that hand in front of her face and oh merciful stars did that hurt, as he pressed and prodded and threw the Force against her iron walls.

 _Push all you like, there are no doors._

She was swaying on her feet now. When had he let her go, focused the whole of his mental faculties on trying to break her down?

 _I am iron. No doors._

His mask snapped to the right, his attention drawn to something behind her.

 _Thena!_

The surge of fear broke her concentration and her iron walls shattered, brittle as glass, and he was inside her and she'd never felt anything more painful, more violating.

He left suddenly, pulling back as if he hadn't expected to push through in the first place, and there was a burst of static in the voice manipulator as he exhaled.

"This dirty thing means something to you," he said, and three more troopers appeared. Thena struggled pointlessly in the grips of one.

"Let her go," Ana said, her voice a wisp, quieter than air let out from an exhaust vent. "She's done nothing."

"Tell me about the data chip," he said, "or she dies."

Thena's eyes were wide with terror. Ana could have sobbed.

"I don't have any data chip," she breathed. "I'm telling the truth. Look inside my head, go on. Just leave her be."

"When you pickpocketed the First Order Lieutenant yesterday, what did you take?"

"Just his credit chip." Ana's gaze was frozen on Thena, her arms twisted painfully in the hold of the trooper. "You're hurting her, she's a child! I didn't take anything else, the chip didn't even have any fucking money on it—"

"Where is that chip now?" His mask was too close to her, right in front of her eyes now, blocking her view of Thena.

Anger boiled hot in her throat. "Fuck you, let her go."

"You are in no position to order me."

He was back inside her room, inside her head, but she had rebuilt, and with a great mental shove he was outside of it again. She curled into herself, weak and fading.

"Where is the data chip?"

 _Go fuck yourself, tin man._

Dimly she heard the ignition of his lightsaber, the crackle of the blade, and she reached toward Thena.

"Don't be afraid," she said quietly. "I won't let them hurt you."

"You have much less of a say in that than you seem to think." Red light bounced menacingly across Ren's mask.

Her knees buckled beneath her. Her room was darkening. Ren lifted the lightsaber; the heat of it bit her skin. Blackness overtook her as Thena held up her hand, her ring finger crossed over her pinkie.

 _I'm sorry, Thena._

* * *

She had failed. She had failed so horribly. Elek was dead, Thena was—oh stars her head _hurt_. She lifted her hand to her temple...or, tried to. Her hands were locked at her side and, she realized, she was strapped to an upright metal slab. She shook and struggled against her bonds as her eyes adjusted to her dim, mechanical surroundings. The movement jarred her side and she cried out in pain, stopping to take deep breaths.

"Don't move."

Ice spilled through her veins at the sound of the manipulated voice. Kylo Ren stood in the darkest corner of the room, masked head cocked to the side.

"Where is Thena?" Anavexi demanded immediately. "What have you done with her? If you so much as bruised her I will rip that disgusting mask off and ram it down your—Ah!" Fire shot up her side and she flinched, collapsing herself against the cool metal.

"You're not listening." Ren stalked out of the corner toward her. "But if you'd rather bleed to death, by all means keep struggling."

She glanced down at her left side. They had taken her clothes, she realized with horror; the baggy black pants on her legs were not hers. It relieved her to see that her breast band was intact, untampered with, but then she saw the state of her skin. From her hip to her waist was angry, red and inflamed, covered in blood some caked and dried and some fresh. There was a chunk of her missing, a hole in her side, little pieces and flecks of something melted into her flesh—

"What did you do to me?" she demanded. The panic rose, acidic on her tongue. "Where am I?"

"There it is," Ren said, so quiet the voice manipulator almost didn't pick it up. "I was starting to think you had no sense of self-preservation."

"What is that?" She flexed her hip and inhaled sharply through her teeth.

"That," said Ren, "is evidently what happens when the latest model F-11D blaster rifle is fired into a pouch of stolen credit chips. Our weapons specialists will be quite impressed with themselves."

" _What_?"

"I was sure you had the data chip on you." The Commander continued talking, tone light and conversational. It sent a shiver down her spine. "Imagine my surprise to find that my soldiers ensured it would be fused _into_ you. It's almost...comical."

"Yes, hilarious, I'm in stitches," she muttered under her breath.

Ren stared down at her. She stared straight ahead, focusing on breathing away the lingering sting of her side.

"The anesthetic should wear off soon."

" _Anesthetic_?" This pain was even _after an anesthetic_?

"Couldn't have you dying of shock too early, now could we?" There was a harsh undercurrent to his monotone voice, a hint of something crueler than he'd been pretending to be. "You've made yourself to be quite the thorn in my side, little thief."

"I didn't know it was a data chip," she said hurriedly. "I just wanted—"

"You thought it was money. Poor thief. That doesn't absolve you."

His hand was in front of her face again, filling her vision with his black glove. He was pushing into her mind but she was already retreating, building her walls thick and strong. He pulled back and stared at her. Sweat dripped down her face.

"How do you do that?" he hissed angrily.

"I don't know." She was rewarded for her unsatisfactory answer with searing pain. He was pushing at her mind again, but not to infiltrate, just to hurt. And _fuck_ did it hurt. Tears sprung to her eyes and she gasped for her breath. "I don't know, I don't—"

"Who trained you?"

"What? I never—"

"Who taught you how to block your thoughts?"

More pain, searing, screaming. Her throat ached, tongue rough like sandpaper as she swiped it across her chapped lips.

"My grandmother." The words came quiet and broken.

He still seemed dissatisfied, angry, when the pain stopped and he was left observing her. He stomped from the room then, and she drifted into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

A/N: Cliffhanger once more...her life as a prisoner has begun! Please review.

Thank you to all those who have followed/favorited/reviewed so far!


	4. Useful

_If you're good, I'll tell you a story. A story about a man, in training to become a knight, who fell in love with a queen. He fell at first sight and loved her stubbornly for years._

 _And she loved him too, and they lived happily ever after?_

 _No, for a very long time she didn't love him. He was persistent, adamant in his affections, and passionate, and so she eventually came to share his feelings. They each had their duty, their responsibilities. They married in secret, and she became pregnant. He became consumed with worry for her and their child. War broke, and he abandoned his responsibility, betrayed his duty, to make a deal with the opposite side in order to protect her. For his love, he was prepared to forsake everything._

 _What happened to her? There's a happy ending, isn't there?_

 _Isn't there?_

* * *

She awoke next in a sterile, bright environment. Her side ached, a dull throb, but nothing near as serious. She was not restrained, lying in a semi-comfortable cot. She squinted up at the ceiling as its hexagonal panels came into focus. A ship's medbay?

"Well?"

Ana nearly screamed. Kylo Ren was seated at the foot of the cot, his black robes contrasting violently with the room.

"Well what?" Her voice was hoarse.

"Your story," he said. "How does it end?"

She had only a moment to wonder how he had pried through her subconscious thoughts while she slept and pulled the details of the story from her without permission; then his presence was back, little tendrils reaching for her, poking and exploring.

"They both die," she said.

The tendrils disappeared. "That's quite dramatic for a children's story."

Grandmother didn't do happy endings, Ana thought.

"Love made your knight weak," said Ren. "Love makes everyone weak."

"Love made him strong." Ana's voice was barely above a whisper. Ren's whole body had stiffened. "Fear made him weak."

Then he was hovering over her again, angry and jerky in his movements. "Your grandmother used that story to teach you never to trust, never to love, never to fear. She would be so _disappointed_."

"You know nothing about me," Ana hissed.

"I know that you broke her rules." He straightened. "You are afraid of me."

* * *

She couldn't keep track of how long she was in that room. A service droid brought her meals and checked the bandages and kept a steady application of bacta on her wound. Their doctors had removed the pieces of melted metal and plastic from her flesh. She wondered if they'd been able to recover the data chip she'd stolen. She wondered what was on it. She wondered when they'd kill her.

This had to be a new form of torture, getting her healthy before her inevitable execution. The First Order wasn't known for their kindness and mercy.

She awoke one day to find a set of black clothes thrown at her.

"Get dressed." Ren stood in the doorway. "There is someone who wants to see you."

She took the clothes, sliding away from the covers of the cot with weak legs. "If you're going to kill me I'd rather you hurry. I'm starting to get bored."

A muscle in his shoulder twitched. "Dress."

Ana waited and a sound almost like a growl slipped from the mask.

" _Quickly_."

"You're not going to _watch_ are you?" she asked.

To her immense surprise, Kylo Ren began to laugh. It sounded absolutely terrifying through the manipulator. "Presumptuous thing, aren't you? I have no physical interest in you." The mask tilted briefly as he looked her up and down. "Nor, I imagine, would any man on this ship. Your concern is pointless."

She hid her face, burning with indignation, and tried to ignore him as she changed. When she was acceptable enough, he grabbed her shoulder in a painful grip and pushed her to match his stride. He practically stomped down the hall—"Do you always walk like a wampa?"—gathering a few looks from pairs of Stormtroopers that passed them. Her shoulder ached, and he had them turn a corner. They approached a door, larger than others she'd seen as they passed, and Ren opened it and shoved her inside.

"You will kneel," he said. "You will not speak unless addressed directly. And you will keep your head bowed."

"What?"

He stepped into the room and the door whooshed closed behind him. They were in an extremely dark, large room, the ceiling high above them. As she stepped, her bare feet cold against the floor, she realized Ren hadn't given her boots back. Ren's steps reverberated in the room. He moved a little further past her, kneeled.

"Supreme Leader," he said, tone respectful and reverent. He turned to Ana, saw she was still standing, and yanked her hard by the arm until she had kneeled beside him. "I brought the girl."

Suddenly in the center of the room, a loud booming voice came, "Very good."

Ana tried to look up, to investigate the sound of the voice—Ren's hand on her arm tightened until she thought the bone would snap, and so she kept her head lowered. She had heard stories about the Supreme Leader of the First Order. Whispers of a monster.

"I am interested to see what kind of creature," continued the gravelly voice, "carries on the tradition of Teräs Käsi."

Carries the tradition of what now?

"Girl." Snoke exerted the Force over her with ease, lifting her up. Ren released his hold on her as she was raised to her feet, her head lifted to make eye contact with a towering humanoid, eyes sunken, half of his face damaged. Ana fought her rising fear. "Where did you manage to encounter a Follower of Palawa?"

Ana's throat was tight, her head swimming with the unfamiliar terminology, and the touch of his Force powers gave her skin a slimy feeling. "My grandmother taught me how to do that, I already told Ren—"

"What else did your grandmother teach you?" There was a probing sensation at the back of her mind, barely noticeable. "What other techniques do you know?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." His dark, hateful eyes flickered—a hologram? Was this huge, towering thing, this thing that had full control of her, a _hologram_?

"Hmph." Snoke sounded displeased. She expected his touch, his horrible presence, to vanish from her and she was wrong. "I'll just have to see for myself then."

When he reached into her mind, it was nothing like Ren. Ren had tested, prodded for weak spots and then pulled away, like a fish nibbling at a line. Snoke plowed forward, so harsh and dominant that it hurt her physically to erect her walls and push him out.

"I see." Then he was back, banging against her iron walls, and all too easily they were buckling, folding. He didn't come into the room, he simply beat the iron in until the walls were suffocating her. She opened her mouth to scream and could feel him shifting through the memories in her head, examining each moment she had of her grandmother— _"You need to know how to protect yourself against them, Ana, look what happened to your father. No, no, focus, girl. Keep them out, you must keep them out."—"The Force is everywhere, you must learn to sense it, to feel when someone is manipulating it."_ —and Ana was drowning, drowning—

He was killing her; after all of this, after all of that back and forth between her and Ren, this hologram with a fucked up face was killing her.

"Master."

The pain stopped. The convulsions stopped. Ana's hand flexed on the metal floor, her cheek pressed against the cool surface; when had she fallen? She vomited blood and gulped air until her lungs burned.

"She may yet be useful." Was that Ren? She could barely hear him past the ringing in her ears. "If what you say is true, she could be a tool against Skywalker and the scavenger. Hux has been looking for new methods to teach the Stormtroopers since the scavenger girl was able to escape."

"You presume this creature able to teach the ancient techniques to common soldiers?" Snoke's voice boomed. "The scavenger escaped because of your own arrogance and folly."

"Then we kill the street rat." Ana's spine stiffened, her flight response kicking into overdrive despite the fact that her legs weren't responding. "I was only suggesting we take advantage of the opportunity, Leader Snoke. The techniques could aid us."

"Hm." The great hulking thing settled in its projected chair. "This is true. The destruction of Starkiller was an unfortunate setback, and the Resistance has most likely found the path to Skywalker. If he trains the scavenger they could prove to be pests." Snoke waved his hand. "Go. Take the street rat. If she does not prove her worth, dispose of her."

The hologram disappeared, leaving them alone in the huge, empty room. She waited—for what, she didn't know. Then she felt it, the gentle prickle at her temple that signaled Ren was reaching for her mind. She was still reeling from the pain Snoke had dealt, so she didn't build her walls fast enough, and she ended up in her iron room with Ren inside. She was curled in the corner, hugging her knees, and he was towering over her. He didn't say a word, but she could see herself as he saw her—weak, scrawny, with knotted fair hair and dead eyes. Her face was clean for the first time in how long? She looked old; when was the last time she'd seen herself clearly, not in the warped reflection of Elek's jumpspeeder?

 _"You've got a pretty face. C'mon, stay a while."_

How long had it been since her appearance mattered?

 _"I clean you up, give you a place, and you give me half."_ Ghrrik's voice made her skin crawl. _"We'll call you Vex. They'll like you, child. Don't be nervous."_

She recoiled from that memory but Ren had focused on it, was pulling it further to the surface. He watched her first client, the way she sobbed when it was all over, the way she scrubbed herself in the 'fresher until she broke blood vessels beneath her skin. She was embarrassed, ashamed, and he still delved deeper.

"Stop it." Her voice came dim and faltering; she was _begging_ and it was disgusting, and he still hadn't let go. "Get out." _That's not for you. That's not for anyone._

An image flashed, just once, of a sharp piece of metal and bloodied wrists, and Ren's presence disappeared from her mind. She was back in the real world, cheeks wet with tears, chest tight with anger and lingering panic.

"Those memories," she croaked, "are not for you!"

Her voice bounced against the walls and echoed back at her.

"Perhaps." Then he was hauling her up by her arm, but her legs wouldn't straighten beneath her.

"Let go of me!" she cried, harsh and shrill. "Don't you touch me!" She thrashed in his grip, and when he dropped his hold on her she collapsed to the floor. "Take that fucking mask off so I can scratch your eyes out—"

His arms lifted and she flinched on impulse, but he wasn't reaching for her. He removed his mask then, a rash move that shocked her, and she held her breath while she waited to see what disfigurement lay underneath. To her immense surprise, he looked...normal. His face was scarred, a long scar that went from his jaw straight across to the opposite eyebrow, but nothing so bad as to require a mask. He had long dark hair, a prominent nose—his brown eyes glared down at her as though she were scum.

"Go on," he said. He kneeled next to her. "Scratch my eyes out."

His sudden move had sucked the anger from her, taken the wind from her sails, and she merely stared at him, at this new face before her. His voice was nothing like she had expected, still deep and baritone but softer than the mechanic manipulator.

"What else was it you threatened me with?" he went on. "That's right, I remember now. You said you'd ram my helmet down my throat, didn't you? Well?" When she continued to do nothing but stare at him, he stood with a grimace. "Don't make threats if you have no intention of following through. Now get up. You've been given an important task."

"And if I refuse?"

He turned away from her, and with a hiss and a click the mask was back in place. "I'll kill you. I thought your intention was to survive?"

* * *

A/N: Teräs Käsi is a method of hand-to-hand fighting against Jedi (Force-users in general) and techniques of meditation and mind-blocking developed by the Followers of Palawa after a war involving the Jedi Council (we're talking like pre-Anakin story line). The Star Wars wiki pages have plenty of information if any of you are interested! I'll be delving a bit more into their history and techniques as they relate to Anavexi.

As always, please review. If you've favorited/followed, thank you!


	5. Progress

Kylo Ren was right. Her grandmother would be disappointed. Ren introduced her first to Captain Phasma, her shiny chrome armor nearly blinding, and guilt coiled in Ana's stomach like a snake.

"Your first task is to teach Phasma," said Ren. "If you can prove to be successful at that, we will then work through the other higher-ranking officers." He paused. "Such as the lieutenant you stole from."

"Did you manage to recover anything off that blasted chip?" Thena's terrified face popped up behind her eyes and she swallowed her responding tears.

Ren's hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "Our techs are working on it now."

She thought of the melted pieces fused into her side and nearly grinned with her spite. Ren seemed to sense her attitude and paused by her on the way out of the room.

"If you fail to teach Phasma, I will have you jettisoned," he warned. "Do not get complacent, street rat."

Ana bit the inside of her cheek. She had tried explaining that the technique she knew, to be performed perfectly, required a knowledge of the Force that she was not prepared or qualified to teach. Either Ren wasn't listening or didn't care. He had fitted her with a degrading metal collar and said, "When you are not training, you shall serve me, so that I can keep an eye on you."

The collar itched fiercely, but any attempt to remove it or even loosen it resulted in a brief and painful electric shock. She sighed, squaring her shoulders. The regulation black clothing given to her felt stiff and starched. The borrowed boots squeaked.

"What do you know of the Force?" she asked Phasma.

Phasma said nothing, expressionless mask staring at her. _Fucking Stormtroopers_.

"I'm sure you at least know that the Force is where Ren gets his power," she pressed gently.

"You will refer to him as Commander."

Ana almost groaned. "Yes, yes, _Commander Ren_ gets his power from the Force, you know that already don't you?"

Phasma gave a stiff nod.

"Good. A basic understanding of the Force is necessary. It…" Here she paused. Her grandmother had talked sagely of the Force and she remembered the speech nearly verbatim. Was that how she would have to teach? Ana's voice dropped and she began slow. "The Force is everything. It's…" _What did Grandmother call it?_ "It's the thread that stitches the galaxy together. It's a presence, a spirit. Some people can feel it. Men like Ren— _Commander_ —can manipulate it. Use it to lift things or pry into people's thoughts or, or create lightning." She was getting no reaction from the other individual. If she failed at this, Ren was going to kill her. That was the deal.

"You have to think of things in physical terms." She sighed. "The way I was taught, you have to concentrate. Close your eyes and picture yourself in an iron room. Your walls are strong. Nothing can penetrate. And this, this is the most important part: under no circumstances can you imagine any windows or doors."

She paused again, giving Phasma time to do as she said.

"This is stupid," was the response.

Ana dropped her arms in exasperation. "What do you want from me?"

"This can't be the way you were taught."

Memories flashed of freezing cold water, of rice on the ground that made her knees bleed when she knelt on them for hours at a time—

"No," she said. "The way I was taught was much more...strict." She straightened her back and stared into the lifelessness of Phasma's mask. "Meditate every day. You have to learn to clear out your mind. If your concentration breaks, if you think about anything but that room, a Force user can break through easily. You have to strengthen your mind if you're going to avoid Force tricks."

They met up on a regular basis, Ren dropping her off and waiting for her outside the room when she was through. He took her to a small chamber with a makeshift bed, locked her in, and too soon the process started all over again. She was waiting with tense shoulders for the day when he would make good on his threat that she would somehow "serve" him, but as she left her sixth session with Phasma, it seemed that wasn't going to happen.

"She's not making any progress," said Ren, his mechanical voice setting a tightness in her jaw. "I can still read her thoughts from down the hall. She thinks this whole process is asinine."

Ana pressed the heel of her hand hard to her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "Well then how do you expect her to make any progress if she isn't even taking it seriously?"

"Hux is getting antsy." Ren went on as though she hadn't even retaliated. "Any longer and you can forget about proving your usefulness to the Supreme Leader."

With a shout, Ana stabbed her finger to the pad beside the door and it whooshed open once more. "Fine! Why don't you go give her some motivation? I'm doing my half!"

Ana held back a hysterical laugh as Ren, surprisingly, obeyed and stepped into the room. Phasma stood at attention and he waved her down. He glanced once over his shoulder at Ana, but she merely crossed her arms over her chest.

"Go on," she said.

Then his hand lifted and Phasma's body froze solid as a rock. "S-Sir?" she asked.

Ren said nothing, and Ana watched the struggle as he sifted through her mind and she tried—failed—to stop him. It was only a minute or so long before he dropped his arm and the tension fled Phasma's form.

"Pitiful," said Ren. "Your teaching methods have not worked."

But Ana was looking at Phasma. "Did you picture the room?"

"I couldn't…" The captain cleared her throat. "I couldn't focus."

Ana nodded. "I had torture on my side to help me focus. I guess in this case we'll have to settle for Commander Ren."

His black mask slid away from his officer and settled on her. "I don't recall agreeing to be part of your experiment."

Her anger was rising again but she fought it back and put all her energy into a shrug. "If you'd rather fail your master, then by all means, don't help."

She liked to imagine the look on his face, his oh so normal, human face, in that moment; long jaw, brows furrowed, dark eyes intense and angered by the trap she was attempting to set. As it was, she had nothing but the blankness of black and silver. He turned his head away from her, back to Phasma, back to the task at hand, and she took that as assent.

"Captain Phasma," she said then, "I need you to breathe. Have you been meditating?"

The woman scoffed and Ana tried to retain her patience.

"You ought to at least try to quiet your mind," she mumbled. "It's not like my life is depending on your effort in this, after all."

Whether she heard her remark or not, Phasma seemed to soften. "Alright, alright." Her shoulders relaxed just slightly and there was a small rush of static as she exhaled.

"Quiet your mind," Ana said. "Just think about my voice. We're in a room, you and I."

"A room," Phasma muttered.

"Don't talk. Focus. We're in a room." She glanced briefly at Ren and then let her vision skirt away, and focused on visualizing alongside Phasma. "What is the room made of?"

There was a beat of silence. Ana opened her mouth to ask again, when the answer came, quiet and surprising: "Iron."

"Good," Ana breathed. "That room…" _That room is your mind. No one can get in if you don't allow them._

As if sensing her unspoken cue, Ren reached out. She could feel his tendrils, testing her even as he tested Phasma. Why was he so insistent on trying to catch her off guard? After Snoke had left her vulnerable, hadn't he gotten in? Hadn't his curiosity been satisfied? Hadn't he seen everything he would have wanted to see?

 _Not entirely_.

She almost jumped. That was his voice, Ren's real voice beneath the mask, echoing gently at her.

 _You're not in your own room, remember? You're in Phasma's._ He hesitated. _Her room isn't as strong as yours._

She decided she would take that as somewhat of a compliment. He was handling her gently as a guest in Phasma's room, but she could see Phasma trembling with exertion. She wasn't focusing.

"Not good enough," Ren announced. He dropped his arm. "You will both have to do better."

* * *

After that, Ana found that Phasma was very receptive indeed to her training. Ren came at the end of each session to retest Phasma. Ana almost felt sorry for the other woman—she knew how invasive and pushy Ren could be with one's thoughts. _Not nearly as bad as Snoke…_

Ana shivered, drawing Ren's attention. "Why don't you try something easier?" she said.

"Easier?"

Everything in Phasma's body language read relief, and Ana continued. "Tell me to do something."

"What?"

"Didn't you say someone escaped from here using the Force?" she said. "I assume they used a mind trick, right? Tell me to do something."

Finally catching on to her intent, Ren squared off against her. "For the record," he said, his voice sounding strained as though he were speaking through gritted teeth, "I am not amused at being used as a kind of training dummy."

"I don't imagine you would be," she responded dryly, and she lifted her eyebrows and waited.

There was something different about Ren's voice, deeper, when he spoke again. "You will bow at my feet and kiss my boots."

The laughter that bubbled across her lips came entirely unbidden. Of _course_ Ren's order, the first one off the top of his head, would be something like this.

He squared his shoulders. "You will bow at my feet," he said, tone firm and sure, "and kiss my boots."

 _Ah there it was_. She could feel the tug and pull of the Force, the nudge at the base of her skull, that feeling that everything would be oh-so-right if she would only do as he said—

"I'd rather you jettison me, actually," she said, fighting her grin.

He tried it again, pushing hard with the Force, and she pictured a waterfall, the crashing of water against rocks drowning out the slippery, sneaky voice telling her to obey.

"Interesting," Ren murmured.

Ana looked at Phasma. "When you meditate, you clear the clutter from your mind. If you want to fight a mind trick, you have to have a strong mind. Only those with weak minds succumb. You have to train yourself to clear the clutter at a moment's notice, to replace it with something calming, and encompassing. Grandmother used to say she pictured a forest, for me it's a waterfall. Think you can do that?"

Ren tested her with the same phrase—"For fairness," he said when Ana barely covered up her responding snort—and Phasma nearly failed. On his second repeat of the phrase, Phasma dropped to her knees in preparation for a bow, and Ana groaned internally. She was going to die, this blasted tin can was going to get her killed. But Phasma didn't follow through with the rest of the command, and when she resisted past the third repeat, Ren relaxed his shoulders.

"I suppose that counts as progress," he said, and Ana almost kissed the shiny chrome top of Phasma's head.

* * *

A/N: So there's more locked into Ana's head than she even knows...will they kill her or keep her?

Thanks for reading, please review and leave your thoughts!


	6. Something Else

Things changed on the fourteenth day, when Ren came to her small room.

"You must know something else," he said, pacing. "Other techniques."

"What?"

"The Followers of Palawa had a fighting style, techniques for hand to hand combat tailored against the Jedi."

Watching him pace her small room was making her dizzy. "I told you, I don't know any—"

"You have to know them!" he growled. "Buried inside that nagging, anxious little mind of yours." His hand shot up. "I just have to rip it out of you."

He pushed forcefully into her mind, searching, but this time she was ready. She shoved him out of her mind, erecting the barrier in a matter of seconds.

"That won't work against me," she said. "What else you got?"

* * *

Her split lip stung, knees locked and aching as she stood next to him on the bridge of the Finalizer. She was triumphant that her grandmother's techniques had kept his stupid little Force tricks out of her mind—his fury at being thwarted spread a victory smile across her face—but she hadn't been expecting the physical blow that had sent her sprawling to the floor. He hadn't seemed like the type to dirty his hands with lowly physical violence, but after he'd struck her he'd stormed down the hallway in a swirl of anger and black fabric, and she'd heard the Stormtroopers discussing his frenzied destruction of a control panel. After, he returned to her room and dragged her here. What was the point?

"Girl."

Her jaw clenched and she said nothing. She felt the probe of his Force powers at the edge of her mind, not trying to invade, just trying to draw her attention, and his voice came more firm.

"Girl."

"What?" she ground out through clenched teeth.

He sat in a large commanding chair, though he had given no orders for the hour they had been there. Nearer to the control panels, a red-haired man in the garb of a high-ranking First Order official glared at him every now and again. Was the great and dark Kylo Ren so childish as to be here only for the purpose of bothering someone?

"Come here." He lifted a gloved hand and gestured. His voice came garbled and mechanic through his mask, the mask he didn't need, not like Darth Vader had needed it. Her grandmother had told her stories of him, of the fear his mask struck in the common people. After his defeat by Luke Skywalker, and the revelation of Vader's true form beneath the mask, it only heightened his legend. The man before her, however, looked and acted like a brooding teen. Who would be afraid of that?

Her bruised cheek told her that he could hurt her. He could kill her. And yet the remembrance of her grandmother's stories stood her hair on end, and the man in front of her just made her angry.

"I am close enough," she said stiffly. If she reached out, she could touch the arm of his chair. That was plenty close.

The air in the central command suddenly thickened. She noticed that a few of the crew were now staring, and more still had gone silent, waiting.

Waiting for what?

"That was not a suggestion," said Kylo Ren, and his voice seemed to lower an octave or two beneath the mask. Was that a trick of the voice manipulator, to sound more threatening?

"I know what it was," she said. "And I reiterate that I am close enough."

"And I reiterate, you are _not_." He was practically growling now. She imagined a dog beneath the mask, a little scruffy thing mad at being denied a treat, and as such wasn't paying attention when he Force-pulled her onto his lap.

Her initial instinct was to struggle, and so her hand flashed out and collided solidly with his helmet. More silence, more staring. Ren locked her arms at her sides with the Force and curled a gloved hand around the back of her neck. His thumb pressed against her pulse point, just enough to feel the thump of her heartbeat. She waited for the inevitable squeeze, the strangling pressure she had seen him force upon so many others. Choking seemed to be his _thing_. Her mind made a leap to where else he might enjoy choking and a grin curved her lips.

"This is funny to you," said Ren, and she dropped the smile as quickly as she could. "Do you think I won't kill you in front of the crew?" His hand tightened around her throat, flexing his hold. "No one would even question it."

She stared at the mask, wondering if underneath it he would be brave enough to look her in the eye while he killed her.

"I will teach you not to defy me," he said, so quietly and calmly that this time fear spiked through her chest. He was pushing into her mind and she was pushing him away, still raw and angry from the memories he had stolen the last time.

"Is that really necessary, Ren?" came a conversational tone. "Some of us are trying to work. Surely there is somewhere else the girl's punishment can be done."

For a moment no one moved. No one breathed. Ana tried to wrest herself from Kylo Ren's lap, her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. He stood from the chair, letting her fall to the floor with a thud, and Ana looked up to the man who had spoken. The red-haired man, the higher-ranking officer, stared down at her with his hands clasped behind his back. Ana couldn't quite decipher the way he was looking at her, cold and calculating but something else was there. A spark of interest.

"You are quite right, General Hux." Kylo yanked her unceremoniously by her arm until she tumbled toward him, his grip bruising. "Perhaps I should employ some of your methods."

The general's lecherous smirk made her stomach sink. He had not spoken up to spare her. He had spoken up to suggest something far worse.

Kylo Ren began to tow her through the hallways, her feet dragging and tripping.

"I will bite you," she hissed. "If you even try, I will bite until you bleed—"

"Before or after you scratch my eyes out?" he said. "Or ram my mask down my throat?"

"How is it you can remember all that but you still call me _girl_?"

"Your name doesn't matter to me."

"My threats do matter?"

"I'm simply trying to keep track. You make so many." There was a breathy sound from the mask, like some sort of malfunction, and then they had reached his quarters. He shoved her inside as the doors whooshed closed, and leather-clad fingers lifted to unclasp his cloak.

She backed as far away as she could manage, eyes glued to him. She could lock herself in the 'fresher. It would take him no time at all to break in after her, but maybe she could break the mirror before he reached her, take a piece of glass—

"Don't fool yourself into thinking you can escape me," he said. There was a hiss as he removed his mask, and beneath his exaggerated features were twisted in a scowl. "I will wring your skinny neck."

"Now who's making threats, will you strangle me or jettison me, I'd like to plan my afternoon—"

"Your smart mouth is not amusing, girl," he interrupted. "I can make your life here quite unpleasant."

"You mean more unpleasant than sharing space with you?" she snapped, emboldened by her rising fear.

"You do not share it. I allow you within it," he corrected impetuously. "You have been granted a great honor in the ability to serve me and the First Order."

"I don't want such an _honor_ ," she said with venom. "And I don't know what kind of slaves you're used to here on the Finalizer but I would rather die than let you force yourself between my legs—"

With his mask off, his face was open and obvious. Maybe that was why he wore it everywhere. He probably regretted taking it off in front of her as revulsion flooded his expression before he carefully controlled it.

"That's what sparked your fear," he murmured, mostly to himself than to her. "You thought when I referred to Hux's methods that I planned on raping you for your insubordination."

Her back stiffened so severely that her spine cracked with tension. To hear him say the word sent nausea ripping through her.

"The memory you hid from me," he said. He was seemingly unaware of her reaction and continued with an emotionless tone. "Surely you must be used to that kind of...treatment."

"I know it's a staple for men like you," she snapped. "Can't get a woman willing so you have to force her or pay her—you've probably immobilized a girl with those stupid mind tricks of yours, so you could pretend it wasn't rape if she wasn't screaming—"

"You know nothing of me," he said. The anger leeched back into his voice slowly. "Do not lump me in with the likes of them." He sighed, his hands resuming their work at the juncture of his throat, and he discarded his cloak onto the bed. Rolling his shoulders, he added, "While a…colorful suggestion indeed, and perhaps an effective method for the average man, I am not an average man. I am a master of the Force." Here, his voice turned boastful. "I have more sophisticated ways of punishment."

Ana raised her eyebrows but continued to watch him warily. "You're very concerned with what the crew out there thinks of you."

"I have a reputation to keep," he said simply. "If I'm seen allowing my attendant to disobey me, it will make more of them think it's alright to disobey me."

"They're afraid of you," she murmured dimly, remembering the footsteps she had heard outside her door as they turned tail away from Ren's rage.

"Good." He seemed relieved, as though she had just reassured him of something. She didn't like the idea that something she said had brought him any kind of peace of mind. "This once," he said, "I've decided you have been disciplined enough. Disrespect me again in front of any crewmember and I will not hesitate to be more severe."

"Yes, sir, oh powerful dark one," she muttered.

He strode over to her, his hand moving to the back of her head and forcing her down into a painful bow. "Let's try that again," he said, mouth twisted.

"Yes, sir," she said to his feet, and when he released her she escaped to the 'fresher.

"Did I say you could—"

"You bloodied my lip," she barked through the door. "I think it's more than fair I'm allowed to tend to it."

 _Insolent, filthy girl._ His voice leeched into her head.

"Must have thought _really hard_ ," she mumbled. "Don't strain yourself, _Commander_."

When she came out of the 'fresher, Kylo Ren was standing expectantly at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"What?" she asked, feeling her mood souring again.

"Undress me."

She gawked at him. Undress? Excuse me?

"Hurry up, girl." He gestured at the layered black clothing. "I've been in uniform dress too long today. This is how I've decided you will serve me."

Ana examined his clothes—they seemed overly complicated, buckles everywhere, some of which seemed purely decorative. "I'm not a fucking maid," she said, and almost immediately the Force had closed around her windpipe.

"You are," he growled low, "whatever I decide you are." He leaned into her face until she could feel his breath. "And I've decided you are going to remove my clothes. Remember your place, girl. Remember who controls your fate."

He released her then and she struggled to quell her bubbling frustration. She sighed, hands finding the sash around his hips first. She imagined he was Elek, from that time he got shot in the chest by a phaser. He'd been trying to steal it from a collector. She'd had to cut his shirt away to get at the wound. The fabric was seared into his skin. It had been so gruesome Thena hadn't been able to look.

Sufficiently distracted, she barely noticed when Kylo Ren's outer layer fell away. He was left in a long-sleeve black shirt and his regulation pants. Her distraction broke when she found herself staring at his belt buckle. How "undressed" did he mean to get?

"Leave the pants," said Ren. "The shirt next."

She stood on her tiptoes to get the shirt off. He really was dreadfully tall. Her fingertips brushed bare skin and she jumped, though he seemed relatively unfazed. Soon he was bare-chested. He sat down on the bed; Ana shuffled her feet anxiously.

"You will need to get used to this," he said. "It is typical of a servant to assist her master in changing."

"You've been managing on your own just fine until now," she snapped before she could help it. "And you are _not_ my master."

"I am," he said. "And you will want to curb that attitude." He glared at her, power and darkness radiating from him. "I will tire of it _quickly_."

She bit back another retort, remembering the sting of her split lip.

He sighed and rolled his shoulders. Even from where she stood, Ana could tell he was tense. "Fold my clothes and leave them on that chair."

Ana bit the inside of her cheek, tasting blood, but did as he said. She set them on the chair and heard him sigh again, heard a pop as he cracked his neck. He wasn't looking at her, his head fallen forward toward his lap, and one of his large hands was rubbing the back of his neck. Like this, it was easy to pretend he wasn't…well, he wasn't _him._ She thought of all the times she had kneaded the tension from Elek's shoulders, all the times she had massaged away a cramp in Thena's leg after running particularly hard away from danger. She reached forward almost on instinct, but when she touched the back of his shoulder, Ren tensed.

"What are you doing?" he snarled, grabbing her wrist in a vice grip.

"Nothing," she mumbled.

He released her and she rubbed her wrist gingerly. "You're dismissed. Go back to your room. I will retrieve you later."

She tightened her lips into a thin line and rushed from the room, eager to be out of his presence.


	7. Hatred is Power

"What happened to Thena?"

Ana's hands absently smoothed the wrinkles from Ren's cloak, where it sat folded on the only chair in his quarters. He was sitting on the bed, staring at the melted mask of Darth Vader with a glass of brandy—initially, this had given her the heebie-jeebies. The mask was representative of something cruel and evil, and to be in the same room with it gave her the feeling of spiders crawling up and down her arms. Seeing Ren stare at it, talk to it, had scared her beyond words. She expected the mask to start breathing and answer back. A week of this had made the action familiar to her, and now it was hardly bothersome. The longer she thought about it, past the initial shock of hearing Ren call the mask _Grandfather_ , the more sense it made. It even explained Ren's own, marvelously pointless mask.

Sometimes she would even make snide comments at Vader, both to hide her discomfort and to attempt to ease her fears— _It's just a mask_ —when Ren was out of the room, of course. Vader needed both sides of his grandson, and if Ana needed to be the one to provide that outsider's opinion—

"Who?"

Ana gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to kick his boots where she'd put them neatly on the floor. "The Mirialan who was with me on Coruscant. The one you used to threaten me."

Ren's dark eyes were glued to Vader's mask. He took a single, slow sip. She wished she'd had the forethought or means to poison the drink. Folding his clothes, pouring his brandy—between this and her progressing sessions with the ever-skeptical Phasma, Ana was starting to wish he'd just space her.

"I have no idea." His eyes flicked to her. "I was preoccupied with retrieving the data chip. That was my top priority." He set the glass down, dressed once again in his regulation pants and nothing else. When Ana was feeling particularly spiteful, she'd count the scars on his chest and back and imagine giving him more. "You should be more concerned about yourself. Phasma has barely progressed in the last week, and unless you show that you have knowledge of the other aspects of Teräs Käsi, you'll be disposed of soon."

"Yeah, yeah," she dismissed with a mutter. "You threaten that almost every day. It's starting to lose its punch."

Ren glared at her for a moment and then stood, and she winced on instinct. His grin showed that her reaction appealed to him, but then he strode past her to his doorway.

"Come with me," he said.

He led her down the hallways, each looking the same as the next—honestly, she'd gotten lost three times before just on her way from her quarters to Ren's—and Ren stopped before a new door which raised on its own, revealing a spacious room with a padded floor.

"Training room," he explained briefly.

"And we're here because…?" She grinned, short and quick, and watched him warily as he stepped into the room. "Don't tell me you're finally going to use me as target practice?"

Ren grunted and when she didn't follow him in, he returned to her side and gave her a shove. She stumbled on the cushioned floor. "We're going to fight, stupid girl."

Ana almost laughed. "That's not training, that's slaughter. I can't challenge you physically, Ren, and you're calling _me_ stupid, hoo boy..."

"Teräs Käsi is not taught half-heartedly," he said. "It is not taught in parts. To know as much as you know about the meditation and the mind-blocking techniques, you have to know the fighting style."

"Don't you think," she said slowly, "that I would remember if I was some kind of combat master? Don't you think that's something that would have come in handy on the lower levels, that I would have taken advantage of that skill?"

"Perhaps your instinct will remember." He began to circle her, like a predator stalking its prey, and Ana followed him with her gaze.

"There's nothing to remember," she insisted. "Why would I lie? Wouldn't I want to seem as useful as possible to stay alive? Why would I hold back something that could keep me from getting spaced?"

He lunged at her and she leapt backward to avoid him. Surprise flickered across his features and then disappeared. "You're a quick little thing."

"Thief," she reminded him. "You're slow, you're dead."

He circled again and then struck at her—she batted his arm away. "Stop toying with me," she snapped.

Ren said nothing, advancing on her again. He threw his arm in a wide, swinging blow, and she just managed to crouch away from it, dropping to one knee as her own arm pushed his up and away. He staggered a bit and she somersaulted to his left.

"Stop it!" she said.

"You claim to know nothing else of steel hands," he murmured. He was smiling, which was quite unnerving for her. "And yet you've just done a perfect defensive stance."

"That wasn't—" She stopped. "I just dodged, it wasn't anything—"

He ignited his lightsaber at his side and the familiar, clawing fear crawled up her throat. "Think about it," he said. "Think of your grandmother's training. It wasn't just to strengthen your mind, was it?"

"I don't know, stop it—"

He came at her with the lightsaber and she tried to run, but the traitorous automatic door remained stubbornly closed. She ducked as he swung for her head, contacting with metal and sending sparks flying.

"Think _carefully_ ," he shouted at her. "What else did she teach you?"

He was poking into her mind, searching again, and he twirled the lightsaber in his grip before swinging it down on her once more, and if she wasn't so scared, if he wasn't so close, she might have thought he was graceful in that moment.

Again, again, again. He was still pushing at her mind, trying to shake something loose, and she couldn't put her walls up like this, not with the heat of his lightsaber kissing her face—

Everything slowed.

Ana fell outside of herself, watching a fair-haired slip of a girl deflect Kylo Ren's lightsaber arm with a well placed strike to his elbow. The girl then grabbed a hold of his left arm, pulled it tight behind his back, kicked in the back of one of his knees to off-balance him, and then her thin arm was locked tight around his throat. There was the rush of wind in her ears and then Ana was inside herself again, looking down at the kneeling, vulnerable man in her grip and hearing herself whisper, " _Yield_."

When she realized what had happened, her grip slackened and Ren pulled her over his shoulder and threw her to the ground. He pinned her there, his lightsaber hovering beside her throat, and he looked triumphant.

"You see," he said, "I told you that you knew more than you were letting on."

"What was that?" Her volume was high, mind racing; she barely noticed when he stashed his lightsaber at his hip and stood off of her. "What did you do to me? What did I just do?"

"From what I've studied," he said, sounding positively _thrilled_ with himself. "You performed a Death Weave. A bit weak, granted, but the technique is there, I'm sure your strength will return to you."

"I don't remember learning that," she said. Her hands were shaking. "I don't remember knowing that."

"You might want to recall quickly," he said, frowning. "You'll need to teach it to Phasma. Now that we know—" His frown deepened as he watched her roll onto her side with a groan, her hands covering her face. "You could show a bit more gratitude. I'm helping you."

" _Helping_ me?" she gasped. "You're _exploiting_ me."

"Stupid girl," he called her again. "I'm the only reason you're alive."

* * *

She dreamed of darkness and water. There was a hand holding her beneath the surface, and the water was coldly prying apart her lips and flooding her throat. She was calm as her vision blackened at the edges, motionless as her life faded away, after all she was already dead—

The blue-veined hand vanished from the top of her head, and suddenly she was pulled from the water, from the cold, into a sweltering heat. Something thumped against her chest, something warm and soft pressed to her mouth, and she spasmed with the force of her cough. She knew this dream well, just when the air was coming back to her she'd be forced under again and again…

"She tortured you."

That wasn't a part of the dream, _that voice didn't belong in her dream_.

Her vision snapped into focus, revealing the dark, helmetless form of Kylo Ren, his brown eyes scrutinizing her. She was waterlogged and desperate and so _angry_ and she surged forward with a roar.

" _GET OUT!_ "

Then she was awake, panting, alone in her cramped room. She flung herself out of the bed, slamming her palm on the pad beside the door. He wasn't in the room, he wasn't in the hall. He had done this, reached into her dream, from his own room. She closed the door again, opening her shield to project her rage at him.

"How dare he," she growled, pacing. "Who does he think he is, prying into my dream, peeping like a little boy at a girl's slumber party, _I hope you can hear me you pathetic bastard_."

Then he was in her doorway like he had been there all along, grabbing her by the arm like he always did and pulling her down the hallway while she hissed curses at him. She _hated_ that he wasn't wearing the mask, that he could look so much like a normal man while he thundered into her deepest most vulnerable places. She hated the look in his eyes, like she was _low_ , hated the way he sized her up, hated that the only emotions he ever tapped into were rage and scorn.

"You hate many things, don't you, little bird?" he said, and another spike of anger shot through her core that he could see into her hazy mind even when she only wanted to stew within herself. "Upset because I clipped your wings?"

"I _hate you_ ," she said.

He stopped so suddenly that she stumbled into his broad back. A door in front of him opened and she recognized the padded floor. No, no, no…

"Good," he said simply. "Use that." And he threw her into the training room like a rag doll, a dangerous ease to his strength. "You have to hate me. You have to hate everyone like me."

"I'm not fighting," she said, shaking her head as he stalked into the room after her. She made a sprint for the door before it closed, slamming her fists against the metal when she didn't make it. "I don't know _anything,_ why can't you let it go?"

"Because it's clear that you do." His black night clothes were loose and casual, and he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he spoke. "I've seen the torture, your grandmother's...training methods, so perhaps the information is a bit repressed. But it's there."

"I won't be able to teach it," she tried next, pressing her back flat to the door as if it would provide some sort of protection. "I don't know how I did it and I am not torturing Phasma or your soldiers—"

"Even if you can't teach it, your knowledge of it is useful." The edges of his mouth curved up in what could almost have been a smile if it were any other man. "You're proving to be an even better attendant than I could have imagined. A bit of finessing and you might even be able to keep the scavenger off my back."

Scavenger?

"I'll discuss it with the Supreme Leader in the morning," he said. "If you prove yourself, you may even be granted some comforts around here."

"Comforts," she repeated numbly.

"A nicer room…" He was walking toward her, his moves predatory, and she felt along the wall trying to equalize the distance between them. "A warmer bed. Maybe even some authority over those Stormtroopers you seem to loathe." How had she let him get so close to her? He grasped her chin in his hand, jerking her gaze up to meet his. "You must never cease to hate me. Hate something. Hatred is power."

"I am not a _Sith,_ " she said, and his grip bruised her face.

"No," he relented. "But you recognize the words. They are no less true just because you are not Force-sensitive." He let go of her face and dragged his fingers lightly along her jawline, dropping down to her collarbone. His touch sent revulsion, quick and hot, through her. "Think on this seriously, girl. You want to survive, don't you?"

That's what it always came down to, didn't it? Everything she did was to survive. Adapt or die. Hadn't that always been true?

"I hate you," she whispered again.

He grinned then like he knew he'd won, and he leaned close to her ear until his heat was stifling. " _Good girl_."

* * *

A/N: Unfortunately there is little concrete "canon" information about the steel hands fighting style. I did manage to find a "fanon" database (a forum connected to a role-playing guild), with extremely detailed fan-information about the fighting style, so I wrote my description of the Death Weave based on information from Miriya Starwind on The Assassin's Holocron. I will attempt to give the link to the Holocron for you all to read if you're interested. I am using it for inspiration, not direct quotes from the forum, but I wanted to give credit nonetheless.

Link: mobile/forum/viewthread/m/10567466/id/5530108-assassins-holocron


	8. Choices

Ren disappeared for four days.

The reprieve was welcome, if a bit maddening. No one would tell her anything, but it was easy to notice the absence of a dark man brooding around the halls of the ship. The atmosphere felt lighter. She was even allowed to leave her room, without him to lock her in, and she felt a strange comfort eating meals in the mess—without their white armor, Stormtroopers were...average. They laughed and bonded with each other, chewed with their mouths open, waggled their eyebrows at her or patted their benches to entice her over. Phasma forced her onto the bench beside her, an action which sent an odd, nauseous wave of gratitude over Ana.

"Don't get too near SL-3591 or SL-1427," Phasma warned, ripping a chunk of bread with her teeth. She pointed to two fair-haired men a few tables over. "The rest of them won't risk angering the Commander."

Ana didn't ask what "angering the Commander" entailed, but she was grateful for the change of scenery. She was just starting to gain a bit of a rapport with a few of the FN units—FN-4239 reminded her of Elek to the point where it was almost painful—when Ren returned.

She recognized the way the air seemed to thicken, pausing in a conversation with 4239 to glance over her shoulder. 4239, a playful personality with a strong jaw and smiling blue eyes, had gone a little pale, and then Ana heard it.

"Girl."

She groaned aloud, letting her forehead connect with the cold metal table.

"You're out of your room."

"Yes," she said. "You didn't lock it before you left so I 'escaped.'" She turned on the bench, ignoring 4239's panicked gaze, and offered Ren her hands, the inside of her wrist turned up. "Cuff me, officer."

His mask was sturdily in place, so she had no idea what expression he wore when he looked at her. She thought she saw a muscle in his forearm twitch. His voice was level when he simply said, "Come with me. You've been neglecting your duties."

"Phasma and I have had our sessions." Ana stood, taking her time, and she could tell she was testing his patience. "Go ahead and ask her."

She remembered too late the last time he had reprimanded her for being snide in front of the crew, the memory of it slipping in as he cut off her airway. She smacked at his gloved fist, gasping.

"I get it," she croaked. "I get it, I get it, I'll listen."

He dropped her with a mechanical grunt, and she realized that if they hadn't attracted all the attention of the mess before, they certainly had now. She tried to regain some composure and some shred of dignity. 4239 offered a weak smile and urged her to go with a brief jerk of his hand, and Ana left the mess hall with Ren thumping close behind.

"Are you making friends with my soldiers now?" Ren was trying to sound casual, but she could hear his clipped tone even through the voice manipulator.

She didn't answer him, turning down the hall towards her room.

" _No_." Ren grabbed her and shoved her in the opposite direction. " _My quarters_."

Uh oh. She had really pissed him off.

"Quit manhandling me," she muttered. "Use your words."

"I'll do far worse," he snarled. They reached his quarters and she had to wait for him to punch the input code on his door pad. "Inside."

"I'm going, I'm going." The door closed and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Mind explaining how I've been neglecting my 'duties?'"

He gestured at himself, arm catching on his cloak, and she rolled her eyes, reaching forward. Her fingers found the mechanism of his mask with ease now, a hiss the only sound in the room as the pressure released, and she was staring into infinitely-dark eyes. There were deep circles beneath them, tinged with purple, and his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.

"You look awful," she deadpanned.

He lifted his hand as if to slap her but then he dropped it with a sigh. "Get on with it," he said.

The cloak dropped to the floor—she'd deal with it last—and when she began the complicated process of his upper layer, she could see blood had soaked through the black clothing.

"The fuck did you do?" she said quietly, frowning. She touched the area gingerly, exploring the damage.

He growled and pushed her away, removing his upper layer himself with a wince. "You're taking too long."

"You're hurt," she said, voice tinged with confusion. "How'd you get yourself hurt?"

"I was on a mission for the Supreme Leader."

She waited, but it became clear he wasn't going to explain any further. "You have to clean up. It'll get infected if you just do nothing. There's still bacteria on spaceships, yknow."

She wet a towel in the sink of his 'fresher and came back to see he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his elbows on his knees.

She kneeled on the bed behind him, pressing the towel to his back, and began gently cleaning off the blood. He hissed at the contact and she pulled back immediately.

"It's fine," he muttered. "I'm used to pain."

 _That sounds fucked up._ She brought the towel to his skin again. "Are you going to explain what happened?"

"I don't owe you an explanation."

"Fine. Have you been to the medbay? They can take care of this better than I can."

"It's fine," he said. "They'll heal on their own."

"They'll scar," she said back, eyes seeing the numerous lines already marring his skin. _Remember when I wanted to give him more?_ She smiled briefly. _Wonder if I could spell my name. His pale skin scars so easily..._

"I don't care if they scar."

 _Men._ Elek had said the same thing after a chunk of metal tore a gash in his forearm. He had winked at her and said, "Women dig scars."

Her hand stilled at Kylo Ren's back. Elek was dead. The man who had instrumented his death was sitting before her, and she was tending to him as if—as if she cared.

"Done," she said coldly, getting up and tossing the towel back into the 'fresher. "You should really bandage it."

She moved to leave, her hand reaching for the panel to open his door, when suddenly her body was frozen.

"I did not dismiss you," he said behind her.

"Stop it," she said. "I hate when you do this."

"I don't care."

She fought the rising panic that always came when he immobilized her. "Let me go." Her voice cracked.

He was behind her suddenly; he leaned close, and he chuckled. "I feel a strange relief when I know that I'm frightening you." Then he stepped back and released her, adding, "You will stay here tonight."

She tried to stem her fear, burying it so that he couldn't sense it.

"I have work to do," he said. "And I will need you in the morning. I don't feel like fetching you later."

* * *

Hours passed. Ana sat with her back to the wall. She couldn't relax—Ren was seated in the chair, doing some kind of intense meditation, and she was excruciatingly uncomfortable. There was a crease in Ren's brow, and suddenly he said, "You can sleep."

"Thank you, oh benevolent one," she murmured. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. "Why don't you sleep? You look like you need it."

"That is none of your concern."

"I'm not concerned," she assured him. "I just don't know what I'm doing here."

He said nothing. She closed her eyes and pretended she was back on Coruscant. Thena was there, smiling with pride at her score. Elek brushed dirt from her hair and laughed. "That's our Ana." She ground her forehead against her knees.

 _That's our Ana._

This was all a horrible nightmare. Elek was alive and well, and he was scolding her playfully for being late again and making Thena worry. She exhaled slowly, remembering what it felt like when he stroked her chin.

 _Why'd you let him hit you?_ he asked her. His eyes were filled with concern.

 _I don't have a choice, Elek._

 _There's always a choice, Ana._

She was angry at herself, for not pressing Ren about Thena. She was angry at herself for giving in, but still that voice inside her head said, _I didn't have a choice._

"Could you _kindly_ quiet your thoughts?" Ren hissed suddenly, his dark eyes open and angry. "You're always so careful to have your walls up, are you annoying me on purpose?"

Ana rolled her eyes and dug her nails into her shins. She constructed her shield with care, and pictured Elek again. Thena was behind her, cool hands on her temples, and Elek was leaning forward with his eyes on her lips.

"I have begun to think that you need a room closer to mine," Ren said. "It has become troublesome to get you every time."

"Oh, goody," she murmured, peeved at her illusion once again broken. "I thought you wanted quiet?"

Ren grunted, scowling at her, and then he was prying into her thoughts again.

"Didn't you just ask me to block my thoughts?" she snapped. "What do you _want_ from me?"

She was so tired, so angry, and he was peeling away her shield layer by layer, sifting through her memories. She could feel him, passing over her history before Elek had found her, before he had shown her that she was more than what Ghrrik said she could be. Ren grimaced as he hit her personal thoughts of Elek, her fondness seeming to make him physically ill, and as he reached for more details of her grandmother's torture, she yanked away.

"You don't get to go there," she said.

He was on his feet, out of his meditative position, and he stormed over to pull her up by the arm. "You can't hide from me, the sooner you accept that the better." Then his voice dropped, his expression troubled. "I can't figure you out."

"You're not _supposed_ to 'figure me out,'" she said, eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm a person, not a puzzle! There are supposed to be things about me that you don't get to know, that you don't get to have your grubby little fingerprints on!"

He pushed at her mind again, harder, and she choked on her own breath when she fought back. He caught her wrist as she swung to strike him, and he shoved her small body against the cold metal wall of his room. She flinched, her face twisting in anger, shame, and pain.

"What a pretty face," he murmured. He tilted her head with his thumb and forefinger on her chin and her skin burned. "That's the thought that volleys around in your head, faint but ever present like a cricket song in twilight. What a pretty face, you've been told. A curse and a compliment. You hate it. And yet, you like being pretty. Some part of you wants to be pretty." His face hardened, the thoughtful expression disappearing. "I don't much care. You have a purpose. If you do not aid me, then you are a hindrance. I won't allow any hindrances, pretty or not." He released her and she dropped to the floor like a limp ragdoll. "I've changed my mind. Return to your room. You're bothering me."

* * *

A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. Life has been kind of crazy. Kindly leave your thoughts in a review! Thanks to all who've kept up with this!


	9. Change

Ana lost track of the days. She stood in front of the 'fresher mirror, naked, prodding at bruises that had greened as they healed and muscle tone in her arms and stomach that hadn't been there before. She pinched her thighs, full now where they had never been, unable to feel the sharpness of her hipbones for the first time in—How would Thena feel, seeing her well-fed, at a healthy weight, allowed to bathe on demand, her keeper the fearsome Commander of the First Order?

"You're taking too long," said the keeper on the other side of the 'fresher door. He banged twice. "How long does it take to change?"

 _I could ask you that too, Ren, but it wouldn't have quite the same meaning._ She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, fingers brushing the cool metal of the collar at her throat. The clothes he'd provided her were suited for the surface of Rinn, though he'd insisted she wouldn't be leaving his command shuttle. If that were true, the thick pants, thermal shirt, and long coat would be pointless.

Her legs buzzed. Her first time off the _Finalizer_ —here, she began to laugh, and Ren banged on the door again—as Kylo Ren's attendant.

To her great bitterness and dismay, their techs had been able to salvage some information from the infamous data chip that had started it all. From her eavesdropping on Ren and the officer he called General Armitage Hux, she gathered the data chip had contained some sort of list, and that list had led them to a snowy planet. Ren was taking her off ship on his Master's orders, as a "test of her obedience."

"It is time to put her to use, Ren," Snoke said as she stood stiffly by Ren's side. "Use her or destroy her."

She played demure rather well, her head bowed and her eyes lowered, but when they left Snoke's presence she opened her mind to Ren and thought hard: _Don't seem so thrilled, Ren. Don't you trust me?_

"Shrewd woman," he murmured at her, and she could have sworn she heard a hint of admiration.

She acted the quiet slave for days, weeks maybe, fighting to hide her grin until they were in private company. He had stopped punishing her for her attitude, and more than once he even seemed amused.

"Hurry it up!" Ren's angry voice shook her out of her thoughts. "Damn woman."

 _Better than girl,_ she projected at him. He projected back the idea of him overriding the door lock, ripping her from the 'fresher, and dragging her to his shuttle naked. She pulled on the heavy, warm pants.

"No need to give the men such a show," she said. "I'll be out in a minute."

She had read once about a syndrome people developed when they were in a captive situation. It explained the relief and familiarity she felt when she opened the 'fresher door and saw brown eyes instead of a cold metal mask. It was an adaptation, that was all. To help her survive.

"Is there a belt?" she asked, tugging on the waistband of the pants. "I'm not going to be any good to anyone with one hand holding these up."

Ren scowled. "The jacket fits, doesn't it?"

"Yes, the jacket fits." It was too long in the arms and hung like a potato sack, but she had a feeling Ren wouldn't care about the aesthetics much. She pulled on the waistband again to show him and raised her eyebrows when he averted his gaze.

"Such a pain." Ren turned to the sliding drawers that contained his own clothes. "I used the sizing from what you were wearing before."

"Those pants were elastic," she said. He responded with a scoff and she fought her instinctive eyeroll. "Hey, if you had just let me pick out my own clothing…"

"As if it would be preferable to have you looting through the room we keep blasters in," he muttered.

"In which you keep blasters," she said, rolling the sleeves of the jacket to her wrists.

"What?"

"Nothing." She watched his back, the tightness in his shoulders. "Anything? I can buzz 4239 and see if he had a belt from his civvie clothes."

The anger rolled off him in waves as he turned, holding his own cloth belt, and sent to her mind the image of him tying it around her throat. She bit back a retort and held out her hand. Instead of giving her the belt, he stepped closer until her outstretched hand bumped his chest.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't move," he growled. His hands circled her waist and immediately she stiffened. He threaded the belt at her hips, pulling and fastening it below her belly button. "Too tight?"

"I can do it myself," she snapped, tone more tense than she intended, and his lips curved in amusement.

"You sure? You sound uncomfortable." His breath tickled her cheek and she gave him a hard shove. He stepped back with ease, unbothered. "Are you finally ready to go? Hux expected us almost half an hour ago."

The buckle hung heavy at her middle but she was already past him and out the door into the hall. His laughter echoed behind her.

Her feet took her down the hall to the hangar, a place she had been exploring more since Ren had loosened his metaphorical grip. A dark-haired tech waved at her, and she went to return it when Ren's imposing presence warmed her back.

"So friendly," said Ren. The buzz of his voice told her without turning that he had fastened his mask before following her. "You're too informal."

"I'm just an attendant, aren't I?" She didn't stumble when Ren gave her a shove, his hand firm at the center of her spine. "They all know what I am on this ship." She walked to where his command shuttle sat, its bridge laid open for easy boarding.

They were to be accompanied by several TIE fighters and a few Transporters carrying troops. She was itching to ask for details, to press him what they'd found on that list that required four squadrons of Stormtroopers. Ren wouldn't answer her, though. In fact, he might even get angry with her if she dared to pry in front of anyone.

Once she was on board his shuttle, she waited until she heard the whirr of the hatch closing before she asked, "So, do I get a weapon on this little day trip?"

She turned to see that Ren had already removed his mask, setting it on an odd hexagonal shelf that may have actually been built specifically for it—she wouldn't be surprised. He was frowning at her. "You are the weapon. Have I not made that clear?"

He went to the pilot seat of his ship and she hovered near the back, staring at the dials and blinking lights with a foreign feeling. She had only ever been on a personal shuttle a few times in her life before ending up on Coruscant, all when she was relatively young. In fact, one of her earliest memories was getting sick on herself from the swaying of an ill-piloted ship. Her father had never been known for his steady hand.

She cut that thread immediately.

"Sit."

Ana raised her eyebrows. Where?

Ren made an exasperated sound and gestured at the seat beside him. " _Sit_."

"I can't co-pilot."

"I don't expect you to _co-pilot_ ," he said, as if he found the very idea idiotic. "I just don't want you wandering around my shuttle."

She sank into the seat, watching him with her usual wariness.

"Always suspicious," he muttered, facing forward. He flicked a few switches and the ship came to life.

"Can you blame me?" She took in his expression, the look of concentration but also ease. "Do you enjoy it?"

"Your suspicion?"

She rolled her eyes. "Piloting a ship. You have to enjoy it somewhat, otherwise you could have a personal pilot. Right?"

Ren's jaw tightened and she realized something she said might have been over the line. "Stop talking. I didn't bring you here for the conversation."

"No," she said. "You brought me because Snoke said to."

His eyes slide sideways to her. "This will be your first test."

Ana said nothing as they set off, sitting sideways in the chair with her temple pressed to the headrest. She absorbed every detail—the way the light of the stars cast shadows on his eyes, the way his hands gripped the controls, the way he glanced over at her as if she made him nervous. She wanted so desperately to be able to read him, to give him a taste of the discomfort of knowing he was an open book to someone, and a few times during the trip she weakened the barrier of her mind so that her hatred could ooze toward him.

He told her to hate. He ought to be proud she was following his instruction so carefully.

And when she tired of it, she closed her eyes and dreamed of Thena.


	10. We

"Tell me one of your stories," he said.

Ana's eyes shot open, her dream shattering like glass. His ship was cold, and when she looked out into space she could see the ice ball Rinn getting closer.

"What?" she asked groggily. She looked to the pilot seat, but Ren was nowhere to be found. In an instant she was alert, upright in the chair, searching for him.

"Right here," came his voice, and she turned to see him, without his mask and without his cloak, lounging along the floor of his shuttle. When she cast a panicked gaze at the controls, he added, "Auto-pilot will take us in for a landing. You're not the only one who wanted some rest."

"What did you say?" she asked. "About my stories?"

"The one about the knight and his queen." There was something wrong with his voice. He sounded almost...sad.

"I never pegged you as the type to enjoy a tragic romance." A grin tugged briefly at her lips. "Well, maybe the tragic part."

He raised his eyebrow at her, a casual, subtle gesture that for some reason sent blood to her cheeks. "Go on. Tell me a story."

"Do we have time?"

His expression began to sour. "We will, if you stop dawdling."

She tried to settle herself in the chair, calm her nerves enough to remember the details of the story, the original story. It hadn't been her grandmother's story before, though she'd told the abridged version many times afterward when she wanted to teach a lesson. No, originally, it had been her father's.

"Once," she murmured, picking imaginary lint off of her kneecap, "in a galaxy far, far away…" Ren scoffed quietly and she glanced up in quick anger. "Do you want me to tell it or not?"

"A galaxy far away?" he repeated. "This sounds like a child's tale."

"It was," she snapped. "And it's one of my only good memories of my childhood so if you're going to disrespect it—"

His expression was oddly serious. "Alright. A galaxy far away it is."

"Once," she started again, "there was a young knight in training."

She told Ren how the young man had been told from the start by his teacher that big things were expected of him, that there was a huge amount of pressure for him to succeed and succeed spectacularly. Part of what he loved about his queen was that she saw him as he was, no expectations. She was beautiful, and she was just. She saw fairness and hope in a world where he saw failure and destruction. She was his light.

Ren was quiet while she told her story. She spoke deliberately, letting the memory of her father linger while she recited the parts her grandmother left out—how the knight had been promised greatness by his mentor but prevented from knighthood; how the knight's ambitions aided in the darkening of his soul; how the queen, despite her disposition, failed to see the transition of the man she loved.

"They die, you said," said Ren when it seemed like she had finished. She had paused at the knight's betrayal and the queen's pregnancy. "How?"

"Father never told me that part," she murmured. "I don't know if that's part of his story."

"But it's part of your grandmother's? How did she say they died?" There was something unfathomable on Ren's face, an unknown element to his expression. She wanted to decipher it, to understand.

"He killed her," she said shortly.

"Did he," Ren murmured.

They said nothing to each other. Then the console of the shuttle began to beep, and Ren stood up. "We'll land shortly."

Her mind spun. He had pressed her for the story, for something that was so close to her heart. He had done it _again_ , pried into her private thoughts and the innermost part of her soul and then chucked it away, like a little boy with a toy that no longer interested him. He asked for the story and then seemed so...so…

 _Dissatisfied._

Ren clicked his mask back into place and she lowered her chin fractionally as the shuttle door opened.

"Good girl," he murmured in a low voice, pleased with her seeming obedience.

At her side, her fists clenched.

"Sir," saluted the Stormtrooper officer as they disembarked Ren's shuttle. "The first target is just up ahead, over the ridge." TIE fighters zoomed overhead. "Aerial strike has already begun."

"They'll have seen us land," said Ren. "We lead a strike team on foot. Tell the fighters to do two more passes, and then send your men in."

"Yes, sir!"

Ren's hand closed around Ana's shoulder. "Stay here. Guard the ship."

For a moment, she forgot herself, and the laughter caught her off guard. She clapped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to contain it, but it was too late. Ren's head snapped to her, as did the attention of several of the troopers.

"I'm sorry," she gasped out, coughing. "I'm sorry, really, but… _guard the ship_?"

She knew he had to be broiling with rage beneath his mask, but she had to commend him for the composure he kept in his body. "Watch your tone, girl. I told you, as I'm sure you recall, that you would not be leaving my shuttle."

"Snoke told you to bring me so I could be useful." She jabbed her thumb behind her. "No one on this snowy wasteland wants your damn shuttle."

An invisible force pressed at her throat, gently, just enough to remind her that it was there. He was warning her.

"You will stay behind," he ground out, "and guard the _ship_."

"I will accompany your soldiers, and be _useful_." The pressure at her throat increased until she couldn't swallow, and then suddenly released.

"Very well," he said. She was surprised by his acquiescence and then suspicious. He never agreed with her. He was never this easy. "We will go with the second infiltration team."

She eyed him warily. What was he playing at?

The Stormtrooper saluted again, slower and more hesitant this time. "Yes, Commander."

The troops organized themselves and began to march out, and Ren held out his arm, gesturing up the snowy slope.

"After you," he said.

Ana stepped off the shuttle entirely, snow crunching beneath her boots and the wind stinging her cheeks. She should've asked for thicker socks, or a scarf, or something. She was no stranger to cold, but there was something more intense and biting on this planet. She followed behind the soldiers but ahead of Ren, trudging up a gradual ridge. A plume of smoke was rising from something on the other side of the ridge, but it wasn't until she'd passed it that she could see the small cluster of buildings bombed by TIE fighters.

She paused, ankle-deep in the snow. "What is that?"

"That?" Kylo Ren stepped up beside her. "That's our target." She swore she could hear him grinning. "A Resistance base, whose location and full personnel list were on that data chip you stole from Lieutenant Mitaka all those months ago."

"Why are we here?" As she watched, the TIE fighters went on one more sweep above the compound and a domed building exploded into a fireball.

"Why?" Now it was Ren's turn to laugh, the sound garbled through his voice manipulator. "To eradicate them."

"You're going to kill them? All of them?"

The troopers had already begun their march down the other side of the slope, blasters drawn.

"No, not me," Ren corrected. He leaned close, his metal mask cold where it brushed the side of her face. " _We_."


	11. For Anyone

Ana resisted the urge to cover her ears. Blaster fire rang in her ears, the clanging of metal, the whirr of Ren's lightsaber. Despite the snow that had slid between the seams of her clothes, she was too warm. Above her, a TIE fighter exploded after a Resistance X-wing shot it down. She tried to dodge the falling shrapnel, a scream clogging her throat, but there was a swirl of black and Ren's hand thrust out, stopping a piece of flaming metal maybe a foot above her head with the Force. He threw it away, stepping over the body of a slain Resistance fighter, and grabbed her hard by the elbow.

"Stay close," he snapped. "I can't look over my shoulder for you the whole time."

"I didn't ask you to," she snapped on impulse, face burning with the embarrassment of being saved by him.

"You're _welcome_ ," he shouted back, and then he cut down another Resistance man. "I thought you were going to make yourself useful?"

She scowled at his back, wincing at the grating sound of more explosions. This was a fucking _war zone._ She wasn't built for a _war zone._

"I'm a thief, for fuck's sake," she muttered, trailing behind Ren. "I'm a fucking _thief_."

And an ex-whore, whispered a tiny, nasty voice in her head. _And a_ _survivor_.

"Didn't give me a weapon." She followed the second strike team through the burned metal hole that used to be a door in the compound's nearest building, some kind of barracks. "They have blasters and I have—"

There were a group of fighters waiting in the hall, opening fire on the troopers, and Ana ducked down as shots flew. A trooper directly in front of her went down, a gaping melted wound on his chest; Ana knelt beside him, reaching for his blaster, while the other Stormtroopers retreated out of the hall to gain cover.

"Ana!"

Oh, how 4239 sounded like Elek when he said her name. Ana's fingers closed on the butt of the blaster, her body turning toward 4239—he had his weapon aimed down the hall but his head aimed at her. He should have been behind the doorway wall, like his fellow soldiers, but he was reaching for her, and guilt clenched her stomach. A shot of energy whizzed past her head, striking the doorway, and 4239 sidestepped into the doorway with a curse.

"Move and I'll shoot!" one of the Resistance fighters shouted, and it sounded so close. They had advanced on her while her back was turned. "Stay where you are!"

There were four of them, only four, but they had the advantage of cover and an ambush. Three Stormtroopers from the squadron were dead. _But the First Order has Kylo Ren._ Her eyes searched for his familiar black armor amidst the flashes of white she could catch from the other room where they had regrouped. Why wasn't Ren stepping forward and taking care of them?

His words echoed in her head: _I thought you were going to make yourself useful?_

She inhaled slowly, counting the footsteps that approached her from behind. She could feel the heat of their gun, and then she struck out. She pivoted on her left foot, sweeping her right leg wide and catching the Resistance fighter at the ankles. Her body lengthened, right hand coming up to catch them by the throat as they began to fall. Her arm tensed with power, her hand closed hard, and _slam_.

Just like she'd been taught.

It was like living in a fog. Her body seemed to move on autopilot, and when the mist cleared and her eyesight sharpened, she was holding a dead Resistance woman by the throat. Ana froze. The woman was young, maybe no older than Ana herself. Ana released her grip, stumbling upright, ignoring the way the dead woman's eyes stared blankly up at her. For a moment, it seemed she had stunned everyone present. Then one of the men regained his composure and fired at her with a strangled yell.

The beam from his blaster froze midair, and suddenly Ren was beside her and the fighter's face went pale. Ren jerked his head at Ana and after she stepped aside, he flicked his wrist. The blaster beam burst harmlessly into the wall.

"As you were," Ren said to Ana, and she could _hear_ his smirk.

She focused on her breathing as the fog descended again. Each time she heard the click of a trigger, Ren dealt with it—other than that, he stayed visible but out of her way, and when she was finished three more were dead, she was sick to her stomach, and Ren was oozing with pride.

She felt unsteady on her feet, resting her back against the wall and sliding down it until she was sitting on the concrete floor. The Stormtroopers advanced now that the path had been cleared, marching past her without much ado. 4239 tried to stop, but Ren's presence forced him to keep on. Ren's cloak brushed over the growing pool of blood on the ground—she had smashed two of their heads together, her strength surprising even herself as bones cracked and caved like thin plywood. Remembering the sound made her stomach churn, a foul taste in her mouth.

"Get up," said Ren, walking past her. "There are plenty more where they came from."

Ren breezed down the hall and when he was far enough away, Ana turned her head, held her hair back, and allowed herself to retch. As she lost sight of Ren, she grabbed the dead Stormtrooper's blaster once more and swayed to her feet.

The buildings in the compound were less industrial than the Finalizer, or even Coruscant. They had lower ceilings, wider doorways, hardly any actual _doors_. The panels she passed seemed to be older tech than she'd seen, and she wondered dimly why the First Order was even having trouble if this was all they had to contend with.

She jogged to catch up with Ren and his squadron, turning a blind corner, and a shot hit the wall just above her head. She spun in a quick spiral, firing the blaster. Its kickback nearly knocked her to the floor, and there was a grunt as her attacker fell. She almost dropped her weapon, the strap catching on her wrist and smacking down against her hip. You're a survivor, she reminded herself, forcing her gaze forward. She didn't even look at the body.

 _Where are you, stupid girl?_

The thought was quick and angry, and her first instinct was an equally quick reassurance: _I'm here_. She had only a moment to think about how irrational that response had been before he sent back, _That doesn't make sense, damn creature,_ _where are you?_

She pressed forward, expecting to run into him at any point. The hallway split; she took a left, running into a circular room with the roof caved in and circuits sparking, and then backtracked. Surely the squad wasn't far off, the compound was relatively small, wasn't it?

There was a sudden rumble and a loud crack, and the roof behind her fell in with a great cloud of dust, and she was plunged into darkness.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Anavexi?" She tripped over rubble, scraping her leg on jagged metal that tore through her pants like tissue paper. "Should have just agreed to guard the fucking ship."

A strong hand was yanking her to her feet, and fear spiked in her chest before a recognizable voice growled, "I thought I told you to stick close."

"Ren," she breathed.

"You're almost more trouble than you're worth." He towed her forward, out of the darkness, out of the building entirely—his soldier's had cleared it and were moving on the hangar, where a few X-wings remained pilotless. The other squadrons were emerging from what she assumed to be other cleared buildings; she tried not to think about the countless dead bodies that lay inside.

"It's nearly over," said Ren. His lightsaber was clipped back at his hip. "I must say, this has been more successful than I anticipated."

Ana held back a dark shudder. Two Stormtroopers marched forward, throwing a struggling, bloodied man at Ren's feet. The man glared up at Ren, one eye swollen shut.

"Monster," he hissed.

Ren lifted his arm quick as a flash, fingers curled, and Ana felt the air thicken as he stopped the man short with the Force.

"How nice of you to join us, Major Brance," said Ren, and her skin crawled at the sickeningly polite tone. "I was hoping you'd be able to make it."

"How did you find us?" the man, Brance, demanded. "What do you want?"

"How'd I find you?" Ren repeated. "The First Order always knew about you, Major. You have never eluded us."

Liar, Ana thought quietly. Ren's shoulder's tensed; he must have heard her.

"Though I must say," he went on, "putting a Resistance base on your own home planet is a bit of folly on your part, don't you think?"

What was the point of this? To scare him? Weren't they just going to torture him anyway?

Ren could definitely hear her. His annoyance seeped out at her. _Shut up._

 _Kill him if you have to but for heavens' sake, Kylo, don't play with your food._

 _Stop distracting me._ His annoyance was evolving into something much more dangerous, but witnessing him toy with this man's life was making her squirm.

The black mask moved to stare at her, though his power kept the man frozen on the ground before him. "You had better get used to it," he said, continuing their conversation aloud. "This is your life now, pet, and I won't listen to your incessant whining about it. You are _mine_ , to do with as I please, _do you understand_?"

His words had barely registered when the movement in her peripherals caught her attention. He was so furious, so focused on her and on the man he was trapping, that he didn't even notice. He didn't see it. How did he not see it?

The shot from the blaster ripped a scream from her throat. She had been shot before, hit by Ren's own men, but this pain was newer, higher, _harsher_. This pain was in her shoulder, her chest, excruciating and white-hot, and her vision cut out. She came back in a snap, but the sky was darkening and the world was sideways.

"Stupid girl!" Ren was shouting, cursing, barking orders at someone. There was a dead Mon Calamari soldier lying in the snow, his weapon dropped beside him. Was that an assault bowcaster? Had she been hit by a fucking assault bowcaster?

Major Brance was hanging limp between two Stormtroopers, dragging him back to one of the transporter ships, and Ren was kneeling in the snow beside her.

"Damn it," he snarled, and then he was lifting her and fuck, that was awful. She was lightheaded but leaden, her legs were numb, hair damp, fingers tingling, and there was a nothing but pain in her torso and her heartbeat thudding so _loud_. Each step Ren made _hurt_ , and she was crying and woozy and groaning—

Something comforting and warm touched at the outer limits of her mind, leeching her pain away. Her chest cleared and her breath came easier. Ren carried her over the slope in large, clunky steps, into his shuttle where a medic was already waiting. Ren dumped her onto the first surface he could; her fingers clenched around the fabric of his cloak, skin feverish, and then released.

She faded in and out of consciousness, once even dreaming Ren had sat by her bedside, a cool, soothing hand on her forehead while the medic cauterized her shoulder and she screamed. Silly, she scolded herself tiredly, and in the next dream it was Elek holding her hand, stroking her skin with his thumb, and Thena smoothed a cool damp cloth over her cheeks.

She woke in the medbay of the Finalizer, squinting in the bright white light, picking up the last remnants of a conversation between two medics as one of them whispered incredulously, "She _protected_ the Commander?"

Was that what they were saying had happened? Ren must be furious to have his ego bruised in such a—

Wait.

What?

It had been so quick, her memory scattered and blurred. Ren, distracted—the center of a bowcaster leveled at his back— _his_ back.

So how did she get hit?

She pushed for the memory, dug deep through the mist and the vague details. She had stepped up, given him a shove, and he had dropped the major with rage in his shoulders, and the shot had flattened her before he could retaliate.

She tried to tell herself that she had shoved him out of anger; they had been arguing, after all, it had been an accident. She hadn't meant to _protect him_ —but now that she had unearthed the details she couldn't force them away. She had been _worried_ , she had been _scared_ that he wasn't noticing in time.

 _I would have done it for anyone._ She rationalized it, tried to calm her frantic heartbeat. _It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't change anything._

She let out her held breath. _He probably won't even acknowledge it. His pride won't let him._

 _I would have done it for anyone._

* * *

A/N: I've been really inspired lately, so I was able to crank out this chapter rather quickly. Ana's caring instinct seems to have gotten her into a bit of a fix now, hasn't it? The consequences for this will be revealed in the following chapters!

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and favorited so far, I'm so grateful to all of you. Please leave me your thoughts on this latest chapter!


	12. Consequences

The next time she opened her eyes, Ana was in a dark room that was definitely _not_ the medbay. She'd recognize the hexagonal ceiling panels and black bedsheets anywhere.

She was in Kylo Ren's room.

In Kylo Ren's bed.

"If you hadn't distracted me, wretched thing, you wouldn't have gotten shot." The offending Commander sat in his chair, watching her in a decidedly unsettling manner.

Ana counted to five very slowly, taking stock of herself before she answered. Her torso was stiff, wrapped thick with gauze and bandages. She could feel pants on her legs beneath the sheets, but the bandages were the only thing covering her chest. She felt vulnerable, exposed, and agitated… and a strong sense of deja vu.

"That's a funny way to say thank you," she said finally, closing her eyes.

"And why should I thank you?" he snapped back. "You did something unnecessary and now look at you. You're a burden."

She sighed, trying to settle her head comfortably on his pillow. Somehow the smell of the sheets was soothing. "I didn't exactly expect gratitude, not from someone like you, but to be scolded for saving your life…"

"I would have been _fine_ ," he hissed. "If you think a shot like that would have been enough to kill me—"

"The fact remains, I stepped in and got injured in your stead," she interrupted, "and I don't hear even an ounce of appreciation. You think I _wanted_ to get shot? You think I'm happy about this? Everything would be easier if you would just drop dead—"

"And yet you leap to my rescue." His voice was dripping with poison. "How positively noble of you."

"Oh, just leave me be already, or let me die, do _anything_ else but argue with me," she said with a groan. "I'm so tired. Don't you have a meeting to go to or a prisoner to interrogate or something?"

"I've gotten all I needed from Taslin Brance," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Then he clasped them in front of his pursed, tight mouth. She wished he would stop staring at her. "You've been out for several days."

She tried to quell the panic that rose, deflecting it with another question. "Why am I in your room?"

"The medics said you would wake soon, your condition was stable."

"Why am I not in _my room_?" she rephrased.

She expected Kylo to mock her, to snort at her the way he had before and call her presumptuous, but instead he said, "The old room is being repurposed. Your new quarters should be ready shortly. In the interim, I'm afraid, there was nowhere else to put you."

"My new quarters?" She tried to sit up and cried out, sinking back into the pillows.

Kylo rolled his eyes, a move that felt like it belonged more to her than to him, and stood. "Hold still." He reached out to her and her whole body tightened painfully, watching his every move. His large hands reached under her, cautious of her wounded shoulder, and lifted her up. She squeezed her eyes shut once more, ignoring the warmth of his body and the strength in his arms, and he propped her against the headrest and moved back to his chair. Only then did she open her eyes again.

"You don't have to be so worried," he said, sounding almost...hurt.

"Can you blame me?" She shifted and winced. "...Thanks." He grunted at her and she added, "That's what appreciation sounds like, by the way."

"Your new quarters will be in the same hall as mine," he said, ignoring her entirely. His dark eyes scrutinized her. "The room is larger. You will have your own 'fresher and free roam of nearly all levels of the ship."

Ana stared at him in disbelief. "Am I on too much pain medicine? I think I'm hallucinating."

He stood up again and she thought briefly she had made him angry. He leaned closer and she was trapped in his deep, unflinching gaze.

"You did well," he said gruffly, and he reached for her throat.

She flinched on impulse, but his fingers gently probed a panel on the side of the collar. Three short beeps and it popped open, falling to the soft sheets. She gingerly touched her throat, chafed and cold from where the metal sat for so long, and gaped up at him.

"Rest now," he said, retrieving the collar. "You were right, I have a meeting with General Hux about the raid on Rinn."

She watched him dress, applying layer upon layer of official uniform until finally he slid the mask over his unreadable eyes. He paused at the door as if he wanted to say something more, and then pressed on the panel and opened it with a soft whoosh.

"I will return in a few hours," he said in a low voice. He glanced over his shoulder. "Lean forward."

"What?" Even as she questioned it, she found she was obeying him, moving her stiff body forward off the headboard. Kylo waved his hand and a pillow slid behind her back. "Was that a _parlor trick_ , Kylo?"

He didn't answer, and when she looked back to the doorway, he was gone.

 _That is what appreciation looks like._ His voice filtered into her head and she pinched her thigh sharply.

"Not a dream," she whispered. "This is really happening."

* * *

She dozed fitfully, uncomfortable as the feeling—and subsequently, the pain—returned to her torso. Kylo reached out to her once and she tensed, expecting an invasion of her private thoughts, and prepared her shield. But he didn't pry, didn't push, he merely hovered at her boundary and waited.

 _I'm fine_ , she sent to him, slightly annoyed.

 _I wasn't worried._

Ana rolled her eyes. _Of course not. You've got a reputation to uphold._ She felt him getting cross with her and he backed away, and she allowed herself a small grin. It should really concern her, how easy these small, psychic conversations were. She was used to having him almost omnipresent in her mind.

 _The fuck is wrong with me?_

She sighed to herself, testing her left arm where the bandages were thickest. Movement was restricted, limited, allowing only for a twitch of her forearm muscle. When Kylo returned, she'd make him remove some of the gauze. Surely she didn't need this much.

When the sound of the door woke her, she was groggy with pain and fatigue. Kylo hovered over her—she felt a prick on her right shoulder and the pain ebbed away.

"You drug me, Kylo?" she said, peeling open her eyes. The room was dim; she reached out on impulse, touching something broad and warm.

"Stopped by the medbay on my way back."

He was gruff and dismissive, and Ana failed to hold back a quiet giggle.

"Medbay isn't even on this level, Kylo," she sang. "When will you admit you feel guilty I got shot?"

"That was no one else's fault but your own." He touched her hand where it lay on his chest— _oops_ —removing it, and then a low light flickered on. She blinked up at him, and he dropped her hand onto the bedsheets. "Sit up, we have to change the bandages."

"We?"

He started pulling at the bandages, unraveling them. "Don't look down."

"What?" Her chin dropped and he yanked her head up by her hair.

"What did I just say?" he hissed.

"It's not my fault, you put the thought in my head!" Her face burned as his fingers brushed her bare skin. "Isn't there a woman who could do this? Or a doctor? Or a droid?"

Kylo's face was unbearably close to hers. She saw every movement as his eyebrows drew together, lips forming a tight line. "This isn't for my enjoyment or amusement. My property was damaged. I'm repairing it."

Property.

She was his _property_.

"Can't wait to get these bandages off," she muttered. "It'll really free up my swing to hit you." His movements stuttered, pausing, and she frowned. "Everything okay?"

"Don't rush into anything," he said, voice low. "Heal first. There will be plenty of opportunities for you to attempt to strike me."

Ice settled in her veins. "Kylo, what's wrong with my arm?"

"Nothing. Hold still." The last of the bandages was off, his gaze locked on her wound, and a sick feeling filled her stomach.

"You told me not to look at it," she whispered. "You're being nice. Well, nice for you. What aren't you telling me?"

"It's nothing. Stop pestering me."

"Kylo." His eyes met hers. "Please."

"Don't give me that." His dark eyes slid away from her and he stood up, reaching toward his chair where medical supplies sat. "If you take it easy, rest up, and _listen to me_ , there's nothing for you to worry about. Do you hear me?"

Ana swallowed the lump in her throat. She was fighting the urge to look down at her exposed flesh. She hated that she was relying on him, she hated that he was being kinder to her, and she hated that she trusted him enough to nod in agreement.

"It will be fine, Anavexi," he said quietly, unrolling a fresh roll of gauze. He stopped when he heard a small, squeaking noise. Kylo busied himself readying the medical supplies while she cried, her good hand covering her face, and she loathed him for it.

* * *

The damage to her shoulder and upper arm was severe. The word 'rehabilitation' was thrown around. Ana sat silently on the foot of a cot while one of the medics spoke to her about the course of her healing. If she took great care, he said, she could easily regain full use of her arm. They would just have to wait and see while the bacta took effect if the muscle was too damaged.

Kylo said nothing, but she knew. If she became a cripple, lost the use of her arm, she lost her usefulness to him. There was no reason to keep her around.

They left the medbay, Ana numbly counting the echo of her footfalls. Her arm was held in a sling. She felt weak.

"Are you tired?" asked Kylo, voice filtered through the mask. "The Supreme Leader has requested a meeting with us. You can rest after."

"Why bother asking if I'm tired?" Ana gave him a short, cheeky grin. "Snoke doesn't really make 'requests' does he? He tells you to jump and you ask how high."

"I have indulged your attitude," Kylo growled, "but you _will_ show him respect."

She lowered her head, absently picking at the cuticles of her immobilized hand. They stepped into the high-ceilinged room, Ana kneeling awkwardly beside Kylo, as the hologram flickered to life.

"Supreme Leader." Kylo bowed his head briefly and then lifted. Ana fixed her eyes on the floor and counted the holes in the grating. "The raid of the Resistance base on Rinn was a success."

"Yes," said Snoke's dramatic, deep voice. "Hux's report was thorough. It seems your attendant performed admirably." Ana felt the heat of his overblown gaze on her. "Hux said his soldiers were quite surprised by her...zeal."

Her shoulders snapped with tension, but she traced a seam in the floor panels with her eyes and kept her head steadfastly down, remembering the force of Kylo's grip last time she had disobeyed.

"Look at me, child."

She raised her head to the hologram, towering and terrifying.

"You have served well." Snoke's good eye was on her injury. His words sounded like praise, but the expression on his huge, flickering face made it clear: he knew she was aware of the implications if her arm didn't heal.

Ana said nothing. Her throat felt tight, and she didn't trust herself to speak. Snoke released her from his prying eye and settled his attention back to Kylo.

"Has the Major conceded yet?"

"He confirmed two more locations we gathered from the chip," said Kylo, "but he doesn't know the whereabouts of Skywalker or the General."

"Are we en route to the next target planet?"

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

"Hmm." Snoke sat back in his throne-like chair. "They will be expecting us to strike again after Rinn. Coordinate a plan with Hux before we arrive."

Ana was barely listening. She flexed her fingers, pushing away a rising feeling of hopelessness. She only noticed the meeting was over when Kylo stood and rapped her smartly on the top of her head with his knuckles.

"Come," he said, his cloak a flourish of black punctuating his walk as he stepped ahead of her.

"I'm not a dog," she muttered, though her voice held less bite than she intended.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, mask unreadable. She expected his response to nail home the notion that she, in fact, belonged to him, but he surprised her by saying nothing at all. She followed him down the hall, pausing when he passed by his quarters without stopping.

"What?" he asked, turning. "Quit dragging your feet, we're to meet with Hux."

"You're to meet with Hux," she corrected. "I was thinking I could just rest for a while. You clearly don't need me for a war council or whatever you call it in the First Order." She tried and failed to joke, "I thought I could live out the rest of my days in that fancy new room of mine."

She could see from Kylo's body language she had said something wrong. He stormed back over to her, reaching for her arm in his quick anger and stopping just short of it, as if remembering her injury.

"Wallowing doesn't suit you," he hissed. "I didn't spare your life to waste the oxygen on this ship and I certainly didn't carry you from a fucking battlefield so you could indulge in a personal pity party." She blinked up at him in stunned silence, but he wasn't done. He straightened up. "You are an attendant to a Master of the Knights of Ren. Act like it."

They stared each other down, Kylo angry and hostile and Ana silent. Two pairs of Stormtroopers passed them in the hall, and Kylo turned away from her in exasperation.

 _You're terrible at pep talks, you know that?_

Kylo exhaled. "Your gratitude is overwhelming." The tension dissipated and Ana quietly matched her steps to his. "See if those tiny legs of yours can't go any faster. Armitage gets cross if he's kept waiting."

 _You don't care if he's cross. You like annoying him._

There was a burst of static from Kylo's mask as he chuckled, and Ana's lips curled up in a reflexive answering grin. She curled her fingers again, her arm itching inside the sling. I'll be fine, she told herself. I'm always fine.


	13. Rumor

When Anavexi was a little girl, she thought she was going to be a queen. A queen just like the one in Daddy's stories: beloved by all, clothed in the finest dresses, with someone she loved at her side. No king though, she told her father. Even if I get married, he won't be king.

"Of course not, baby," her father said. He sat her on his lap, his hands trembling and twitching on her knees. "My girl doesn't need a king." His smile turned sad, his face long and gaunt. There was stubble on his chin and purple half-moons beneath his eyes. "Your mama didn't need a king either."

He never spoke much about Mama, and Grandmother _never_ spoke about Mama. If Ana ever asked about her, Grandmother would strike her, spit, and double down on her training.

"You're better off emptying your head of her," she said. "You didn't have a mother. You had a breeder, and a father, and they're both gone. What are you going to do to keep that from happening to you?"

* * *

Ana's head lolled, her chin in her hand; she had almost dozed off.

"Going in guns blazing will only cause unnecessary casualties—"

"We have the men to spare."

"That's not the point, Ren, we have to be smarter about this. Not everything can be solved by blunt force."

Ana rubbed her temples with her good hand, using her feet to turn her spinning chair back and forth. Hux and Kylo were in a heated argument that had begun almost immediately upon start of the meeting. They were in a conference room with a few majors and a colonel or two, judging by their uniforms, seated at an absurdly-shaped table—seriously, who designed this place thinking hexagons everywhere was a good idea?—and no one would get a word in edgewise. Ana had to admit though, Kylo seemed willing to just throw wave after wave of soldiers at the enemy until they folded. Not exactly sophisticated military prowess. At least Hux was trying to be clever.

It seemed no one but Hux was brave enough to even be a dissenting voice in the face of the fearsome Kylo Ren. One of the majors leaned close to another and whispered, "Let's hope they come to a conclusion shortly, we'll arrive at Akiva in less than an hour."

"What I don't understand," whispered the other, "is why Ren brought his whore."

It took Ana a second to realize they were talking about _her_. She knew she should be offended, insulted, but she found the statement immeasurably funny. _They think I'm fucking Kylo, fuck, that's hilarious_.

Her smile dropped from her face before it even fully formed, however, when the major suddenly began to choke, his face turning red in a matter of seconds. Ana blinked. What happened? Her eyes followed a line of black—an outstretched hand? Ana's mouth fell open. Kylo Ren was force-choking him. The man clawed at the invisible force around his throat. Hux looked angry, but his rage was puny compared to Kylo's aura. No one in the room breathed. Ana stared at them, looking between their stunned faces. Were they just going to watch while Kylo killed him?

"Really, Commander," said Hux, though he sounded tired. There was no panic or firmness in his voice, he just sounded fed-up. Even the use of Kylo's title sounded as if Hux were simply reminding him.

Ana looked back to Kylo, aghast. "Kylo," she said finally. "Enough already, aren't you being a little childish?"

His masked head snapped to her and she could _feel_ the piercing eyes that lay beneath it.

"He called you my whore," he said. "You expect me to believe you, of all people, are at ease with that insinuation? I'm merely setting him straight."

"You're merely strangling him," Ana deadpanned. The man's cheeks had turned purple, his eyes bulging. "Kylo, come on." She tried to reach out to him, her arm stretching inside the sling, and she flinched. Kylo abruptly released the man—he coughed and spluttered and gasped as his face returned to its normal coloring.

"I have no need for whores, Major," Kylo spat at him. "My tastes are more refined than yours, it seems."

Hux was deadly calm during the whole of it. Ana felt uneasy, looking at him as he cleared his throat and said easily, "Back to the matter at hand, Ren?"

Kylo was still fuming, breathing audibly through his mouth as he tried to maintain his temper.

"Yes, yes," he said, tone dismissive. "Why don't you put together that stealth strike force you were talking about? You seem rather fond of the idea, don't you? I think it's about time you started doing some of the work, General, it was getting rather troublesome taking care of it all myself."

Hux raised an eyebrow at Ren's sudden concession. "You are in agreement now, then?" His blue eyes slid to Ana as Ren grunted his assent. "Interesting."

"Are we quite done here, gentlemen?" Ren's hand twitched toward his lightsaber and the other men scrambled out until only Hux remained. "Anything more, Armitage?"

Hux was still looking at Ana, but she resisted the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. "Very interesting," he murmured. "WIll you be sitting this one out, Ren?"

"It's your plan, is it not?" Kylo snapped. "I prefer direct attacks over sneaking around."

"Yes," said Hux, low and deep. His voice washed over Ana like a rumbling purr. "You are a very direct man, aren't you?" He freed Ana from his icy stare. "I suggest you use this time to expand your search for General Organa. The Supreme Leader will be expecting progress on that front soon." He left then, brushing Ana's good shoulder as he passed, and goosebumps broke out on her skin.

When they were alone, Ana whirled on Ren. "What was with that reaction?" she demanded. "Why couldn't you just dismiss the accusation calmly? They'll only talk more now."

"What?" Kylo paced the length of the meeting room, pissed and preoccupied.

"You nearly killed a man for calling me a _whore_ ," she said. "First of all, I have been called much worse so if you're worried about protecting my pride you needn't worry. Second of all, a reaction like that will only make them more suspicious!"

"I don't care what that sniveling man thinks of me," said Kylo. He stopped pacing. "What time is it? You have an appointment with the doctor." He waved a gloved hand. "Go on. I have work to do."

It felt odd to her, having him shut her out of something when he usually was more than happy to drag her along for the ride. She left with a strangely hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Ana wandered the hallways, feeling aimless. Her appointment wasn't for another half hour yet. It was pathetic, but she hadn't realized that besides following Kylo, training with Kylo, bantering with Kylo, she didn't do much on the ship.

"Ana!"

Her head swiveled toward the source of her name, catching the waving soldier at the other end of the corridor. 4239 grinned at her as she went over to him, his eyes alight until he saw her arm.

"I heard about it," he said in a low tone. "There are a lot of rumors."

"People on this ship sure like to talk," she said wryly. "Are you sure you're soldiers and not teenage girls?"

"You're not denying it." 4239 looked serious.

"You haven't told me what the rumors say yet. How do I know what to deny?"

He wagged his finger at her, breaking into a slight chuckle. "Cheeky. How you've lived with the Commander so long I'll never understand."

"Think I could snark him to death?"

"Or vice versa." His expression evened out again. "They're saying that you protected him. Like you're his new guard dog."

Ana nodded slowly and 4239 made a strangled sort of face. "What?"

"I'm waiting for the denial," he said weakly.

She shrugged, wincing at the pain the gesture caused, and started walking. He jogged to catch up with her. "That part's true. I got hurt pushing him out of the way. He was too busy getting pissed off at me to notice he almost got shot."

"There are other rumors," he added quickly. "Mostly from the higher ups. Not Captain Phasma, she'd never get caught saying a _word_ against the Commander, but—"

"Just spit it out," she said. Her legs were steering her back towards the hangar; she needed the open space, the room to breathe, because suddenly her chest was too tight.

"You—You and the Commander are—" 4239's face flushed and Ana stopped dead.

She fought her responding anger, focusing on his sheepish, downcast eyes as she breathed in slowly and counted to five. "Why does everyone," she said through gritted teeth, "think we're fucking?"

4239's ears were scarlet, his teeth worrying his lip. "L-Look, I didn't say I believe them—"

"You _asked_."

He clamped his mouth shut and she pressed firmly on her temple with a sigh.

"He's interested in my marvelous, inner talent for killing people," she sniped. "He thinks it's endlessly entertaining to pull my strings and watch me dance. I am not, nor will I _ever_ , fuck Kylo Ren."

"Well now," said an amused, accented voice, "that's quite the reassuring declaration."

4239 snapped into a salute and Ana nearly smashed her forehead into the wall in frustration.

"Aren't you late for blaster inspection, FN-4239?" General Hux's face was stern despite his easy-going, borderline pleasant tone.

Ana glared at the general as her friendly soldier scampered off. Hux suddenly smiled, his hands behind his back. Ana waited as the silence stretched between them.

"Come with me," said Hux, tilting his head.

"I don't have to go anywhere with you," Ana hissed.

A flash of a scowl flickered across Hux's mouth but he quickly smoothed it out. "My apologies, I didn't mean for that to sound like an order. If you'd like, why don't you accompany me to the med bay?"

"I feel fine." She eyed him with caution, the politeness of his words causing unease within her.

"I'm sure that's not true." He waved a gloved hand at her injury. "Do you want to get your arm repaired, or not?"

"Repaired?"

"Did Ren not tell you?" His smile grew and she bit the inside of her cheek in discomfort. "I was sure he'd be the first to give you the good news. There's a procedure that can potentially give you full use of your arm."

What? All her panic, all her anxiety, all those subtle hints about her recovery and the concerned brows of the doctors as they told her she'd need to take it easy, and there had been a way to fix it all this time?

"What procedure?" she said, stepping up to Hux's side.

He put his hand on the small of her back and began to lead her gently down the hallway. "Experimental at best, but still, I'm surprised Ren never mentioned it to you. He is, after all, the one who insisted we research the idea."

Hux's hand was cold through her uniform. Ana suppressed a shudder as he began explaining the details of the procedure. She pulled absently at a thread on her sleeve. _Why didn't Kylo tell me?_


	14. Circuits and Sparks

Ana stared at the bright light so that she wouldn't be tempted to look down. "What are the odds this will work?"

Hux crossed his legs at the knee. "I believe the doctor already said forty-eight percent."

"Did you tell Kylo I'd be here?"

He raised his eyebrows at her while the medical droid started up the laser. She breathed through her mouth trying to avoid the smell of burning skin and melting metal.

"He knew you had an appointment." Hux folded his hands on his lap. "You're at your appointment, aren't you?"

"He thought it was a checkup, not—" She inhaled sharply through her teeth as something sparked, shocking her.

"You care very much what he thinks, don't you," said Hux in a sharp tone. "Stop talking. I don't know how Ren stands you and your incessant vocalizing."

The experiment was adding robotics to her muscle, combining droid machinery and human soft tissue to rebuild a fully-functional appendage. Ana had heard about robotic replacements for lost limbs, mechanical mods and enhancements, but never a seamless marrying of living and mechanic. It made sense that Kylo wanted to research the idea. After all, by the end, his own grandfather had been mostly machine.

Still, why wouldn't he tell her that this was an option? Why hadn't he mentioned it, watching her agonize by herself for days?

"If this doesn't work," said Hux conversationally, face impassive as another electric shock sent her spine arching off the cot, "we could always amputate and replace the whole thing." He laughed, short and mean. "Would certainly be easier."

The droid worked above her for ages. Her forehead was damp with sweat, the inside of her mouth bleeding from getting caught between her teeth when her jaws clenched. Her arm still felt numb. Her shoulder burned. Her vision blurred, and when it cleared again Hux and the droid were both gone. She lifted her hand to block the light, blinking the world into focus and realizing she had just lifted her bad arm.

 _It worked._

She flew upright—too fast, it seemed, the world spinning. She clutched at the edges of the cot until everything steadied, and then she waved her hand in front of her face.

"It worked," she breathed, glancing down at her previously-injured shoulder. What she saw made her nauseous, a sour taste on the back of her tongue.

There were thin, spidery white tendrils of scar tissue reaching out from the center of the wound, spiraling over her collarbone and her bicep like tentacles. The wound itself was still red, raw, and angry; skin hadn't healed over it yet despite the bacta she was sure had been slathered on, and she could see the robotics that were operating underneath, fused into muscle and tissue and making a low, steady hum when she moved her arm and fuck, she was going to be sick.

She lurched off the cot. A doctor pulled the curtain that partitioned off the section, muttered something about bedrest and easing into movement, but it was her _arm_ , her arm but not _her_ arm, half hers and half something inhuman and foreign. She thought they would have dressed it, that she wouldn't have to look at it. She thought it would just look normal, that it would look as if nothing had ever happened. Where was Hux? Where was Kylo?

Ana pushed the doctor away and put a shaking hand over her mouth. _Get it together, Ana. You knew what the procedure entailed. You have your arm back. Everything is fine. Get it together._

When she had calmed her breathing and been looked over, the doctor cleared her and she walked distantly back to her room. The new quarters Kylo had prepared for her were actually quite comfortable. She had been surprised when he first showed them to her—the bed was spacious and plush, easily wide enough for two people despite the fact that she slept curled into herself out of habit, there was a bookshelf already with half a dozen texts and small armchair, and the 'fresher had a bathtub. A real bathtub.

That was where she headed first, shedding her clothes on the way. She avoided the mirror as she drew her bath, stepping into the water just hot enough to make her suck air through her teeth. As she sank her body in, muscles screaming relief, she froze as the thought passed through her mind wondering if she could electrocute herself.

She started to laugh, keeping her shoulder above water level, and then she started to cry.

* * *

There was a pounding noise on her 'fresher door. Ana lifted her head from her knees, staring at her pruned fingers.

"Occupied," she croaked.

" _Obviously_ ," came the snarling reply. "I'm merely checking that you haven't drowned yourself."

She jolted upright in the tub, water sloshing. "Kylo?"

"Who _else_ , miserable woman?"

She stumbled out of the tub, slipping on the cold floor, and ripped her towel from where it hung. She wrapped it around herself and allowed the 'fresher door to slide open.

"When I gave you access to your own private 'fresher," Kylo began, his face tight, one arm resting against the doorframe, "that wasn't permission to use all the water on the damn ship." His gaze locked onto her shoulder and darkened. "What have you done?"

"It's fixed," she said weakly. Her hair was dripping onto her rapidly cooling skin, sending shivers through her. "Hux found me. He told me you knew about this procedure, taking the idea of robotic prosthetics and combining them with living tissue. Why did you let me worry about it if you knew I could be fine?"

Kylo's hand curled into a fist and he slammed it against the doorframe, making her jump. "I told you to listen to me!" he shouted. "I told you that I was taking care of it, that everything would be fine, didn't I?"

"I wasn't getting any better, Hux said—"

" _Hux_ ," said Kylo with a hiss. "You think so little of me that you would trust the judgement of that conniving, self-serving—"

"He did something nice," Ana countered. Her energy was gone, whole body shaking. The hum of her arm was giving her a headache. "Why are you so angry? Because I'm better and you had nothing to do with it? If you knew about the procedure, why didn't you just tell me?"

"He didn't do it to be _nice_ , he did it to bother me," Kylo spat. "Everything he does has an ulterior motive, you'd be best to remember that before you go trusting him so _easily_."

"Why didn't you tell me?" She didn't even realize when they started shouting, her hand gripping her towel at her front with white knuckles.

"There was no guarantee it would work," he said, eyes glaring daggers. He was towering over her. "Did Hux tell you the risks if it didn't work?"

"The doctor said it had a forty-eight percent chance of success—"

"Permanent muscle damage," Kylo interrupted. "Irreversible cell death in your arm. Amputation wouldn't get it all. Toxins could have flooded your body, into your shoulder, your heart. There was a fifty-two percent chance you would have died, Anavexi, and you're still going to argue with me that what Hux did was _nice_?"

She bit her lip. "It...It was still my choice."

"There were _other ways_. Why couldn't you just _listen to me_?"

"Maybe because you've killed the only people I cared about and you've been holding me captive and forcing me to help the First Order murder people!"

Kylo snorted and her rage rose. "Oh, please, give the victim card a rest for a while, won't you?"

" _Excuse me_?"

There was a faint _ding_ signaling someone outside the door. Kylo whirled on it, hand twitching toward the lightsaber on his hip.

"We're _busy_ ," he shouted.

"Ah, Ren, good of you to check in on our patient."

The door opened to reveal Hux, as Ana shrieked and tried to close the 'fresher door to hide her state of undress. Ren's hand shot out and stopped it.

"We're not done talking," he said to her, before turning his wrath on Hux. "How did you get the override code for her quarters?"

Something clicked inside Ana's head. "You made an _override code_ for my room?"

"My, she's shrill, isn't she?" Hux grinned. "Such volume for such a tiny thing. How's the arm, darling?"

"You didn't even stay through the procedure?" Kylo growled.

"I'm a busy man, Ren, you of all people should understand. We each have our duties." Hux lifted his chin. "Are you telling me that you would have stayed? What a doting captor you've turned out to be."

"Get. Out."

"I'm glad things seemed to have worked out," said Hux, oozing an air of superiority. "The Supreme Leader will be pleased that I was able to save such a valuable asset." He smirked at Kylo. "You really should have told her about the procedure, Ren. Let the girl make her own decisions." He stepped into the room and some strange impulse had Ana taking a step back. He moved past Kylo and reached out to her injured shoulder. "A man ought to take responsibility if he is to blame, don't you think?"

Kylo's large hand, quick as a flash, clamped down hard on Hux's wrist and yanked it back. "You don't lay a hand on what's mine," he said, low and dangerous.

Hux, despite the obvious threat, was still amicably smiling. "Not the type to share, hm?" His eyes went back to Ana. "Let her dress, won't you, Ren? I'm sure she feels vulnerable enough. I'll take my leave." He gave an exaggerated salute and left the room, and Ana vanished into the 'fresher while Ren was distracted.

"Get out here!" Ren slammed his hands against the door again.

"So you can yell at me some more?"

Ana rested her head against the cool metal, letting the towel drop as she reached for her pieces of clothing. The fogged 'fresher mirror had cleared and she forced herself to look at her reflection. Her eyes were dull, her cheeks flushed with her embarrassment and humiliation. Her hair was getting too long, longer than she liked it, long enough to be a pain. Her fingers gently prodded at the metal bits moving beneath thin artificial skin, dipped into the gaping hole that the medical droid had not covered. Machinery pinched her index finger and she yelped, drawing back.

She pulled on her shirt carefully, smoothing it over her injury, before stepping outside. Kylo was no longer hovering by the door. He had moved to the bed, and was sitting on the edge with his elbows on his knees. He didn't look up when she came in, but still she stayed, wary, by the 'fresher doorway.

Now that she was really looking at him, truly looking, she could see how tattered he looked. His uniform was torn in several places, there were dark stains and flashes of pale skin and bright red. He didn't say a word, but it was clear that he was wounded. Maybe badly, she couldn't tell from here. Cautiously, she stepped forward.

"Those pants are ruined," she said quietly, observing the fabric, destroyed from the knee down. "Get them off. That thigh wound looks bad."

She gathered bacta and gauze and knelt in front of him with a drained sigh. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he snapped. "Just make quick work of it."

"You weren't going to mention it, were you? You would rather let them fester."

"Is this your idea of quick?"

"Does it have something to do with where you went? I thought you were sitting out the raid on Akiva?"

"I wasn't a part of the raid," he snapped. "Drop it."

"How am I supposed to help you if you won't talk?"

"By shutting up and spraying the damned bacta."

Ana scowled and applied bacta to the wounds on his legs. She gnawed at the inside of her cheek as she did, observing his closed eyes and tight breathing. He was obviously in pain. Had he reopened one of the injuries on his back? Aren't we a pair, she thought wryly, and then she stood.

"Don't move," she said, and then she settled behind him on the bed. She pulled off his shirt, and he offered no resistance. Her hands touched his bare shoulders hesitantly and he flinched. "Don't move, I said."

"Your hands are freezing."

She ignored him, doing a thorough investigation of the muscles on his back, like she'd had to do when Thena had popped a ligament in her shoulder. She couldn't find evidence of any added damage, and while the newer scars were still pink, nothing seemed to be reinjured.

"You're tense," she muttered. "It doesn't help that you barely sleep."

She pressed her palms into the muscles of his lower back, and in an instant he had turned and halted her, off the bed and near the door. "That's enough," he said gruffly, an odd gravelly tone to his voice. It was different from his usual grit and she cocked her head slightly in curiosity.

"I'm just doing what you said," she bit out, her frustration rising again.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine, you're a fucking child," Ana muttered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Are we quite done? Mind leaving me the fuck alone?"

"Curb your tone. I have been nothing but considerate—"

"Considerate," she repeated incredulously. "You're really calling yourself _considerate_."

His back straightened; he looked haughty for a moment. "My care of your injury has been more than amenable, most would have had you disposed—"

"You keep expecting me to be grateful when you don't kill me." She was on her feet, her finger jabbing into his chest. "You're just a bunch of hot air, aren't you? Empty words, all of it. You want me to hate you, be frightened of you, but when was the last time you actually hurt me, Ren? You want me to be indebted to you for not killing me, well, _go ahead then._ " She met his harsh, dark eyes. "I won't bow and kiss your fucking boots for _allowing me_ to exist."

"You're incorrigible," he spat, fury blowing his pupils wide.

"That's the fanciest word I've ever heard you say," she said in mock surprise. "Congratulations."

"Insolent bitch." His hand closed around her throat.

"Do it," she dared. "I'm surprised you held yourself back for so long."

"Why do you insist on antagonizing me?" he demanded. He reversed their positions, shoved her back against the metal wall, knocking the breath from her lungs. "Do you enjoy it when I hurt you? Shall I do it more often?"

"You're sick."

He bared his teeth, feral and animalistic. "I know you fear me. I know you're afraid of what I can do. Why do you push me?" His breath was hot against her face, his gaze furious. "You don't know what kind of danger you're provoking."

His body was pressed against her—he was too warm, too close. She turned her face away from him, and his grip moved from her throat to her chin. He gripped her bruisingly, forcing her to look back at him.

"Not so brave, tough girl? You avoid my eye now?"

He was searching her face desperately, for what she didn't know. His emotions were palpable, obvious in his tortured expression. He was struggling for control against something, and she wondered if he was fighting the urge to finally kill her. Maybe she really had pushed too far. _But if I have to stomach another second of feeling insecure about the state of my life..._

Nothing could have prepared her for his hand as it trailed down her waist to her hip, applying just enough pressure to hurt, lingering at the bare skin above the waistband of her pants.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was a quiet exhale, stunned by the pain of his thumb and the gentle warmth of his palm as he rested it fully on her skin. His head dropped until his breath was brushing her neck, his face nearly pressed the juncture of her neck and shoulder. His other hand lay against the metal wall—in her peripheral vision she saw him flex and curl his fingers in a shaking struggle even as he touched her so preciously.

"What are you _doing_?" she repeated. It felt like her brain had short-circuited.

His voice was dark and sent a shiver down her spine when he whispered into the shell of her ear, "You've poked the bear, _Ana_ , and now he's awake."


	15. Nova

He was pressing her hard into the corrugated metal, scalding hot as if he had a fever, his rough hand floating across her as he pushed her shirt up to reveal more skin. He was all corded muscle and a strange musky scent she had never smelled from him before, his hair shielding his eyes as he sucked at her neck. He was practically naked, for fuck's sake—

"Where's your fight, little nova?" he murmured against the column of her throat. His thumb found the indent where her hip met her pelvis and he chuckled darkly. "You want this, don't you?"

Several actions ran through Ana's mind, though her body remained frozen. She could open her mental shield and distract him with something consuming, she could thrash and push, she could…

"Afraid yet?" His voice was harsh, dangerous and threatening in her ear, and then he bit down.

The pain sparked through her immobility and she was struggling, flashing out against the body in front of her. She opened her mind and launched a counteroffensive from there, throwing him the brunt of her hatred in hopes that it would mask her fear and anxiety. When he pressed harder, locked her arms with his iron grip, she countered by thinking of the calm aura of Elek's smile and the warmth of his speeder's engine.

"Still thinking of the dead man," Kylo spat. "It's a mistake to ignore me."

His leg shifted, pushing her thighs apart to rest between them, and she ignored the need to shiver from his desperate heat as she brought her knee up _hard._

The sound that spilled from his mouth almost made her laugh. _Men, so fragile._ But his rage allowed him to recover quickly, delivering a blow that sent her toppling to the floor. She landed on her bad shoulder with a cry and a metallic clang, and though he looked ready to strike her again, he hesitated.

Then, suddenly, _he_ was laughing.

"There it is. Clever lure. I'm ashamed to say I fell for it." He was moving with winces of lingering pain, a small victory considering the ringing in her ears and the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her up to meet his gaze. "I've been too soft on you lately, little nova. But don't worry." He stroked her cheek with his other hand, tightening his grip on her hair until her eyes watered, and then he threw her to the ground. "I won't make that mistake again."

Her flight instinct kicked in and she bolted for the door.

"Really?" he chuckled. "You're going to run?" He captured her again so easily, her back pressed to his chest. "You can't _escape_. I'm all you have."

Alarms began to blare, the light of the room dimming. Ana almost laughed with relief as Kylo gave an exasperated sigh in her ear and released her.

"The timing could not be worse," he growled.

"Shouldn't you go? Doesn't this mean we're under attack?" Her cheek hurt something fierce, her shoulder ached.

He was dressed in a matter of seconds— _how did he do that?_ —and snapped his mask back into place, covering his angry scowl. "This... _conversation_ ," he said with a snarl, "is not over."

"This wasn't a conversation," she murmured, but his robes swirled behind him as he left her.

She lifted her shaking hand to her face, exploring the damage, and brushed away the strangest urge to cry. It wasn't anything he hadn't done before, she thought. His treatment of her wasn't anything new. Why was her chest so tight?

The alarms kept screaming, the rhythmic pattering of Stormtroopers outside her door. She crept out slowly, wondering what was actually going on, until a rumble suddenly tore through the ship. She stumbled, holding onto the door frame.

"Space battles," she mumbled. "Fucking space battles, can't someone just put me back on solid ground."

She went to the bridge, the ship rocking, and was nearly knocked flat by an officer as he pushed past. The bridge was in a strange sort of chaos, and outside the large glass window of the ship Ana could see the grey blurs of X-wings and the green lights of answering TIE fighters.

"What are you doing here?" Hux stormed over to her, grabbed her arm as another blast struck the front of the Finalizer. "I don't have time to babysit, go back to your quarters."

"What's happening?" She watched another X-wing drop a torpedo on the edge of the ship and speed off. "Those are Resistance ships."

"We're under attack, blasted woman, what do you think is happening?" He all but threw her off the bridge into the hall. "If you're looking for Ren he's off to the hangar directing our fighters."

Did she want to find him? She touched her tender cheek again. No, no, she didn't. She wandered, the alarms ringing in her head as explosions peppered the Finalizer. Was it really the Resistance? Without the Republic fleet they were a tiny, scattered force. Why would they have dared to blitz attack a star destroyer? Another group of soldiers marched past on the way to the hangar, and then suddenly someone was calling her.

"Ana!" 4239 shook her by the shoulder, decked out in full armor complete with helmet and blaster. "Why are you here? Where's Commander Ren?"

Her eyes narrowed. "He's not my keeper—"

There was another explosion. "It's dangerous, Ana, do you not hear the alarm?" He grabbed her arm and began towing her down the hall, turning a corner into a corridor she didn't recognize. "You have to hunker down, if they break our defenses and board us—"

It all happened so fast.

Something blew, an impact like a brick wall slamming into her side, and her first thought was that the hull had been breached and she was being spaced. There was fire in her eyes and ringing in her ears and smoke in her lungs. Why was she staring at the ceiling? The emergency lights had turned on, casting the metal walls in a red glow, and as she rolled over she could see 4239 lying face down amid shrapnel and sparks.

"Hey," she croaked, coughing. There was shouting from somewhere, filtering through cotton into her ears. She crawled toward 4239. "Get up."

She pulled herself onto her knees and reached around his white armor to turn him over; her hands came away bloody.

 _No no no_ —

Her surroundings snapped into focus. Ceiling panels had fallen, revealing wires and pieces of torn metal. The explosion had come from some sort of rupture, bubbling the wall of the corridor out until it burst through the sheets of silver.

"Hey, come on." Her voice broke. She fumbled with the helmet but couldn't seem to get it off. "Get up, hey, _get up_ , just—"

Thundering steps, more shouting so much _shouting_. They needed a medic, where was a fucking medic? Her left arm was stalling, stuck bent at the elbow. There was sparking above her head and she draped herself over 4239's body as her mind screamed.

 _Ana._

She couldn't think, couldn't pinpoint the owner of the voice inside her own head. It was calling out to her and it sounded so worried.

"Dammit, girl, screw your head on straight!" At first she thought it was Kylo, but her eyes focused on the uniform of a general and pale red hair. He was kneeling beside her, a smudge of ash on his chin and his hair tousled, and he looked both angry and inconvenienced.

"Can you move?" he asked, eyes inscrutable.

"M-My arm—"

His eyes flicked down to it and then back up. "Do I need to educate you on human anatomy? Your arm is not necessary for movement of your person, _can you move_?"

"Yes, but—" Even as he helped her to her feet, she turned back to 4239. "He's—"

"Dead," Hux interrupted. "We've got to get moving, they're closing off this level to repair a hull breach in the next corridor. Unless you're particularly fond of suffocating, I suggest we get going while the doors are still open."

"Did…" Her brain was short-circuiting. "Did you come to save me?"

"Nothing of the sort," he said sharply, but Ana remained suspicious as he all but dragged her away from the scene and onto another level.

"Was that really a Resistance attack?" she said, lungs and eyes burning. "Why would they randomly—"

"They probably thought it was some sort of revenge for our attacks on their bases," Hux clipped. "Leave it to the Resistance cowards to implement guerrilla warfare. Ambushes are the low-man's tactic."

"How did they know where we'd be?" Ana looked over her shoulder again, casting one last look at 4239, and then Hux slammed his palm on the door pad and it whooshed closed.

"Stop looking behind," he scolded her. "Damn, you're slow."

* * *

The damage to the Finalizer was relatively minor, and repairs had already begun on the one level where the hull had been breached. Hux was writing on a clipboard, taking "inventory" of the men they'd lost, and Ana was sitting on the floor of his quarters, staring at the wall.

"What number was he?" Hux asked at one point.

Ana blinked very slowly, as if coming out of a fog. "What?"

"The trooper you were so keen on trying to save in the hallway," he explained. "His number?"

She recited it numbly and Hux jotted it down.

"Did he have a name?" she asked quietly.

Hux glanced up from his clipboard to glare at her. "Of course he didn't have a name."

His comlink was going off every few minutes, a mash of voices on the other line as everyone tried to get in contact with everyone else. Hux looked perturbed but unalarmed. Phasma had called on him several minutes before, tilting her head in acknowledgement at Ana. When was the last time they had met for their sessions? Kylo had all but given up on that branch of possibility.

Ana rubbed her arm, hoping that the machinery in her muscle would pick up again soon. She tried to meditate, imagining Thena rubbing her temples and pushing down on her shoulders. She thought of her waterfall. Then she thought of her father.

Her grandmother said he'd been good to her, while he could. She didn't have many specifics memories of him from what she had called The Before when she was younger. He had taken to drinking, babbling, forgetting who she was or that she was even there at all. Tortured, Grandmother had said, and his mind had snapped like a brittle twig. That's why it was so important she stay strong, that she stayed firm.

That she didn't let anything bother her.

Thena was gone, Elek and 4239 were dead. She had nothing, and no one, but herself—

 _Where are you, nova?_

Her blood ran cold at the rage in Kylo's voice as he shoved into her head. She didn't answer him, shrinking from the anger and sheer violence of him. She expected him to go ahead or try to beat her into submission. Instead, she heard nothing else from him, and soon the tension began to fade again.

" _Hux._ " Ana jumped as Kylo's voice sliced through the static of Hux's comlink. Immediately, all other voices cut out. " _Where is she?_ "

Hux looked relaxed, unbothered, and lifted the comlink to his lips. "Don't worry, Ren, I'm keeping her warm for you."

Ana flushed straight to her toes, and in a matter of seconds she was on her feet reaching for the comlink. "Why did you say that, you'll only make him angrier—"

He calmly lifted his comlink away from her reaching hand. "You may want to straighten yourself up, he'll be here shortly."

Ana stared at Hux like the man had grown a second head. How could he be so calm? Kylo was furious, he would—

She ran a hand through her hair and then ground the heels of her palms into her eyes, and within minutes she heard the clomping wampa-steps of the Commander.

"Ky—"

He roughly grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder with an undignified squeak, and spun on his heel to the reverberating laughter of Hux. It took Ana a minute to get up to speed with what was happening, the mechanics in her left arm creaking to life.

"Put me down," she said in a low voice. "Put me down right now."

"You don't order me," he snapped, practically spitting, resulting in feedback from his voice manipulator.

He took her to his quarters, their corridor undamaged by the ambush, and deposited her unceremoniously onto his bed. "You," he said, ripping his mask off his head and chucking it into a corner of the room, "are a _thorn in my side_."

"What did I do?" she demanded, nerves raw.

"Apparently you got yourself blown up!" he shouted. "I leave you alone for five minutes so that I can do my job—"

"You left me behind! If you were so fucking worried, why didn't you bring me? You always keep me chained to your side and the one time you decide to leave me behind and it's my fault the hull breached?" Tears pricked her eyelids, her fingernails digging into her palms when she clenched her fists. "A friend of mine died in that hallway, and Hux was the one who came to get me, you have no right—" She choked, covered her mouth with her hand. "You have no right—"

" _I have every right,_ " he bellowed. "Do I need to remind you who you belong to?" He reached for her again, his face twisted. "You are a constant problem for me, a constant source of concern—"

Ana buried her face in her hands and screamed.

Shockingly, Kylo went silent.

She focused on regulating her breathing and wildly palpitating heart, her frustration rising. There was the rustle of fabric, and Kylo Ren's warm, ungloved hands were gently tugging at her wrists to pull her hands away from her face.

"Don't touch me," she said in a clogged, caught voice.

Anger flashed brief over his face and then he smoothed it out, taller than her even when he was kneeling in front of her much like Hux had. "Stop thinking you can tell me what to do," he said.

"Isn't that my line?" she said.

"Hush." He held her arms out from her, just looking. His eyes were darting across her face, her neck, to her injured shoulder. What was he looking for?

"You shouldn't be upset," he said, "about the soldier."

"He was kind to me."

"You feel responsible."

Her eyes narrowed. He had pulled that from her head without her realizing. "You're an ass."

His hands moved, down her arms to her knees. She waited, hyperaware of his touch as it moved up from her knees to her thighs, and tried to squirm away. He was moving slowly, as one would with a frightened animal, and then he lifted one hand to curl around the back of her neck and she froze. His fingers tangled in her hair and she was afraid, so afraid of what he might do next, more afraid of him now than she had ever been—torn between the thought that he would hurt her, which was familiar, or that he was doing something else, which was not. She didn't understand, not with his touch so gentle that if she just closed her eyes she could forget who he was and what he had done. He stopped there for a long while, his fingers flexing against the nape of her neck and twirling her hair with a foreign tenderness of which she hadn't deemed him capable. Her eyes closed and she held her breath, waiting for the rug to be pulled. Waiting for the lashing of his tongue or the pressure of the Force. She felt neither.

He pulled her forward to meet him and their lips brushed, and she wanted to scream again.


	16. Why

_This isn't supposed to happen_.

He deepened the kiss, his lips moving against hers, and he groaned low and short in his throat. She wanted to pull away but he had locked her there with his iron strength, and when she tried to move he merely tilted his head and kissed her harder, his tongue sliding into her mouth. He was leaning her backwards, his knees on either side of hers. His intensity grew, mouth feverishly hot, and he lifted her leg until it wrapped around his waist.

 _I don't want this._

She couldn't breathe. He stole her air, suffocating her with his kiss. How could he keep this up for so long? Did he not need oxygen? This wasn't supposed to happen, he wasn't supposed to kiss her like this. Like he was desperate for her. It terrified her—his genuine desire for her was frightening, and her answering flare, her lack of fight, scared her even more. She should have felt sick, and the fact that she didn't...

His hands were everywhere—in her hair, on her thigh, under her tunic, on her breast. Where were her hands? She couldn't feel her limbs. There was nothing but him and his heat and his demand for her, his insistence and overwhelming _want_. She was so afraid, his desperation for her flooding her senses as though he were broadcasting it to her, as though a dam had broken and he wanted her to know it. She could do nothing but receive as his tongue plundered her mouth.

It felt like ages before he allowed her to breathe, his mouth separating from hers even as his hands continued to move, setting her skin on fire as she gasped for air.

"My nova," he mouthed against her skin.

 _Not your anything,_ said a small dissenting voice.

She pushed at him weakly, her strength sapped, and to her immense surprise the man above her stopped immediately. She stared up at him, flushed and breathless, lips swollen from his kiss, and she watched astonishment flit across his expression.

Pressure lifted off her as he disappeared from atop her body, vanishing into the 'fresher. Ana lay against the sheets, staring at the paneled ceiling, just catching her breath. She covered her face with her hands, something wet on her cheeks, and only then did she realize she had been crying.

She heard water running in the 'fresher and sat up, breathing slowly.

What the fuck, _what the fuck was that_?

Ana ran her fingers through her hair, and then she was bolting. Down the hall, past pairs of Stormtroopers, gulping air into her lungs like a drowning man until she reached her own quarters. She closed the door and remembered the override code with a strangled groan. Punching the pad in frustration, she threw herself onto her own bed, threw up her mental shield, and waited for the inevitable angry footsteps of Kylo.

* * *

She awoke several hours later, alone, in her dark room. He hadn't come after her.

Ana sat up, feeling groggy and overall confused. Kylo hadn't stormed after her, reached out to her at all. He had let her run away. For some reason, a wave of fresh hurt crashed over her and she tamped it down hard. He had no right to do that in the first place, she reminded herself. Her lips burned. She laid her head back down on the pillow and breathed deeply, lowering her shield without really thinking about it. She felt a presence, someone reaching out, and she met them halfway until she could feel them inside her head—

It wasn't Ren.

She was used to his probing presence, familiar with the way he pushed and tested the limits of her mental wall, searching for holes or weaknesses. His prodding was warm, a heat and a pressure that made her uncomfortable. This was nothing but pain and sharpness and they broke through her hasty barrier with ease and a hiss. _Pathetic._

Ana saw black, wind rushing through her ears with the distinct sensation-she was falling.

 _Come, child,_ came that spiteful voice again, deep and reverberating inside her skull until her head ached. _Come and see._

Her feet began to move through the nothingness, approaching a light that grew brighter, a blurry scene that grew focused.

Kylo Ren's quarters?

She was still in Kylo's room?

Some time seemed to have passed. Kylo had undressed, his back toward her as he lay on his side with one arm propping himself up. She shook her head, feeling groggy, and stepped toward him. He never undressed without waiting for her, ordering her to do it was one of the few things she knew amused him.

"Did something happen?" she asked cautious as she approached. He was probably angry, furious even.

He didn't say anything and she felt her indignance rise. How dare he ignore her, he was the one who kissed her without permission!

"Oh, going to ignore me, are you?" she crossed her arms. "What a childish prince of darkness you are."

 _Look closer._ The voice was back and oh so painful. _You've ruined my protégé. Step closer and see._

"I don't know what you're going on about-"

 _Perhaps another angle._

The room spun until now she was confronted with a sight that made her gasp. Kylo was naked, perched and smiling above a slight woman with fair hair, clasping the blankets to her bare chest with one hand while the other lifted to toy with the dark curls at the nape of Kylo's neck—

 _That's not me, there's no way that's me._

Kylo caught her hand and kissed it and the Ana clone flushed scarlet.

"What the fuck is this?" Ana said, her voice shaking as Kylo gave the lookalike a languid kiss. Her own lips tingled and she touched them with her fingertips. "What kind of sick-"

 _This is Kylo Ren's desire,_ said the voice. _This is the passion that replaces his hatred._

Kylo shifted on top of the woman, the woman that wasn't her, definitely _not her,_ and his hips rolled beneath the blankets in time to a wanton moan from the lookalike. Ana covered her eyes with both hands and shook her head furiously.

 _This is how he imagines it will happen. This is what he hopes for. Yearns for._ The voice curled around her like barbed tendrils. The moans rose in pitch and frequency and Kylo was groaning, moving in earnest, and the woman's voice— _Ana's voice_ —was nearly screaming encouragements.

"Yes, Kylo, Kylo, just like that—"

"Stop it!" Ana clamped her hands down on her ears, eyes squeezed shut.

 _Watch,_ the voice instructed again.

The woman was on top of him, and he was looking at her with such _reverence_.

 _Watch!_ the voice ordered.

"No."

"Ana," Kylo whispered, like a prayer. "Ana, Ana, I love—"

"I know, Kylo," said the lookalike.

"No!"

 _Watch as you enjoy the touch of the man who killed your friends. Elek and…Thena, wasn't it?_

"Stop it!"

 _He didn't tell you about her, did he? Poor little thing, all she did was cry and cry, couldn't even call out for you to save her._

"STOP!" she roared.

He left her mind like a weight falling away from her and she gasped at the air, unable to get it into her lungs fast enough, and began to cough. She was alone, in the dark coldness of her own room. She flexed her fingers around the sheets of her bed and waited for the voice to return, her back bracing for it. Nothing came.

What was that?

 _What was that?_

"Why did you show me that?!" she roared to the empty room.

She couldn't process it, couldn't think about anything except the heat of Kylo's body and Thena's smile and her ring finger crossed over her pinkie. She had probably been dead the very first time Ana had ever asked. And Kylo Ren had known that.

* * *

She didn't know how long she slept, but she awoke, her muscles tight with tension, to the sounds of her door opening. She waited, braced for Kylo, and was therefore caught off guard when a gentler, accented voice spoke instead.

"He must have been quite rough with you," said Hux, stepping into her only sanctuary, "for someone so bullheaded as yourself to hide in her room like a cowering child."

"What do you want?" she demanded, sitting upright.

He raised his eyebrows, gaze going from where she lay curled on the floor to her empty bed. "You have strange tastes, urchin."

"Don't call me that." A headache throbbed behind her eyelids. "What do you want?"

"It's been two days since the attack." Two whole days? "You have not been accompanying Ren. I wondered if he had tired of you."

"Why, so you could finally get me off your ship?" she spat. "Or were you thinking of hiring a personal slave instead?"

"Ren is a...messy fellow." Hux's eyes raked over her form, and once again she felt incredibly uncomfortable. "I came to see if I needed to clean up. I'm relieved to see there's no need."

Now it was Ana's turn to raise her eyebrows, but Hux didn't elaborate. He straightened his shoulders and glanced at her arm; the mechanics creaked when she moved to rub her eyes.

"When was the last time you went to the medbay?"

"I'm fine."

He walked over to her, grabbed her uninjured arm, and lifted her from the floor. "I didn't ask how you were."

Hux towed her out of the room, his grip firm and guiding but not painful, and somewhere in the corner of her mind she felt a surge of anger that didn't belong to her.

* * *

"Ren is a brute," said Hux as she sat on a cot in the medbay. "He's barely effective, to be honest, and his methods are garish. For all his pomp and presence and that snarly reputation he has, it was quite entertaining to watch you thoroughly undo him."

"I was told that standing up to him was foolish," Ana muttered, testing the movement of her arm, watching the freshly-mended artificial skin stretch over the metalwork.

"And yet you continue to do so."

"It's habit." She rolled her shoulder. "Never been one for authority figures."

"I would like you to return to him," said Hux, crossing his legs as he watched her. "If only for my own amusement. There is so little for entertainment on this ship." Ana scowled at that and he chuckled in response. "I imagine Ren feels similarly. He seems oddly fond of you, after all." He smirked, strangely smug. "It's a better obsession for him than the scavenger anyway."

He stood to leave her then, and when the ship's doctor was satisfied with her range of movement, she stepped into the hallway with a misplaced sense of dread and a quiet tinge of...jealousy? It was none of her business if he was 'obsessed' with the scavenger girl. _Better her than me._

Even when her slow footsteps eventually brought him back to his room, even when a soldier posted outside his door told her that Ren had been sent on a "special mission," even when she dimly heard Hux's laughing voice say, "Wait patiently, like a faithful pet, for when he's finished with her," she just kept telling herself, _Better her than me._

It was five days until he returned.

Ana was starting to think he was dead, an idea which both elated her and filled her with a sense of dread. Kylo was a lot of things, but he was also the reason she had any semblance of life on this ship. If he were to die, perhaps Hux would keep her around as a plaything for a bit, but he seemed like the kind of man who tired of his toys rather quickly…

She refused to wait in his room like a 'faithful pet,' but it surprised her nonetheless when he reached out for her almost immediately after she heard the soldiers talking about how his shuttle had come into the docking bay.

 _My quarters,_ came the short demand, and it spiked an indignance hard in her chest so much so that she felt like disobeying.

 _I am not a patient man, Anavexi._

She rolled her eyes, wondering briefly if he had seen her flare of rebellion or if he had just assumed it of her. She told herself on the way to his room that nothing had changed. He was no kinder to her, he was acting no different, and therefore she too was no different. The kiss had meant nothing.

And yet when she saw him again, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for her, her chest tightened painfully. She forced the strange feeling away, pushing Thena to the forefront of her mind, and focusing on her anger.

"You went after that Force girl again, didn't you," she asked dimly. "That was your special mission."

"Hello to you, too," he growled low. His clothes were a wreck, tattered and ripped. He rubbed his temple, refusing to look at her.

She moved robotically, gathering the usual scant medical supplies and a damp rag from the 'fresher. "I thought the point of this, the point of all this, was for me to 'keep the scavenger off your back.' If you're not actually going to bring me, why am I even here?"

"Are you that angry that I left you behind?" he asked next. "It seemed clear from the way you had closed yourself off that dragging you on such a mission would have been pointless. You would have only been a distraction."

She touched the rag to the lightsaber wound on his side, clearing away bits of fused fabric from his skin while he hissed. "That desert girl everyone has been talking about. She did this to you."

"Yes," he grumbled. "Stop eavesdropping."

She pressed hard on the burn and was almost delighted to hear the sound that escaped him, a yelp like that of a kicked dog. "Oops," she said blithely. "Did that hurt?"

"Get on with it or I'll call a medical droid and lock you back in that broom closet you called a room," he threatened.

She dipped the rag into the bowl of cold water to her right, watching his blood cloud it. She knew he hated medical droids. He might send her away, but he wouldn't let anyone but her patch him up. He'd let the wound fester first before showing his weakness.

Kylo ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "She's gotten stronger. Fighting her is...exhilarating."

"It's not any of my business," she said, the words slipping from her tongue before she could stop them. Her chest throbbed, a low hollow ache. _My shoulder is acting up again._

"I feel the call to the light," he went on, almost to himself, "when I see her."

Ana sprung to her feet, knocking over the bowl of water, its contents splashing to the floor. For a second there was no sound but the thudding in her chest and her own hoarse breathing thick with emotion. Slowly, she kneeled to mop up the spilled water.

She didn't want to hear this. She didn't want to hear Kylo Ren reconsidering the dark side, not when she was supposed to hate the man, and especially not over a girl. The idea was almost laughable, if she hadn't heard the words from his own lips. She wondered if he knew yet why he was fascinated with the desert girl. She wondered why she cared.

Her mind conjured the image she had been fed, the prone form of this dark man beneath the woman that looked like her, was her— _"Ana, I love—"_

She pinched the bridge of her nose hard, focusing on her breath. "Clean yourself up or call a medical droid, I'm not your fucking nurse." She chucked the rag at him, bitter and angry.

His hand reached out and caught hers, and the first thing she noticed was that he hadn't used the Force to stop her this time.

"I haven't dismissed you," he said, and she told herself she was imagining the playfulness and slight apology to his tone. "I can't dress the wound on my side properly without you."

 _Get gangrene you disgusting piece of…_

She bit her lip to keep the tears at bay, trying not to dwell on the way he made it sound like he needed her, and began to unroll the bandages.


	17. Action and Reaction

A/N: Minor mature content to follow.

* * *

Ana rebelled in the only ways she knew how.

She and Kylo barely spoke except when he would bark orders at her. She kept up her training, honing her skills and building her muscles, and just when he thought she was being obedient—"You're doing well, Anavexi, show me what's motivating you."—she lobbed her silent anger at him like a mental brick. She often exchanged pleasantries with Hux, an act he was more than willing to go along with after seeing the tension snap into Kylo's spine. She took lunches in the mess with the other soldiers, thought of 4239 often, and—against the warning of Phasma—got friendly with SL-3591.

He was classically handsome, she had to admit. Fair hair, rich brown eyes, strong arms. He was charming, with an easy smile. He was obvious about what he wanted from her, and she didn't much care that he was only trying to further his hot-shot jockey reputation.

She didn't much care about anything anymore.

The nightmares had gotten much, _much_ worse. Often it was Elek's dead eyes or 4239's panicked voice telling her to hunker down right before an explosion. Sometimes, on the worst nights, it was Thena crying while Kylo ran her through with his lightsaber.

She kept her mental shield up at all times; every once in a while, after one of her nightmares, she felt Kylo reaching out. Once, only once, for a nightmare she didn't remember when she awoke, Kylo burst into her room using the override code and shook her.

"Ana!" He hissed her name in the darkness as her panicked, freshly conscious mind lashed out at him. He grabbed both of her flailing wrists as she tried to punch and scratch at him. "Your screaming will wake the whole fucking ship, it was just a nightmare."

"Get out," she croaked, chest heaving. "Get away from me."

"I can help you," he said, and he prodded at her weakened shield. "Let me help you." Her fear and anxiety calmed—he was leeching it away, like he had with her pain when she had been shot.

She rejected it, pushing him away. "I don't want your _help_ ," she said venomously. "Just get _out_."

He left her and she sat, her knees pulled tight to her chest, until her breathing had slowed, and she too left her room feeling restless. The nerve of that man. This was all his fault, why would she want his help now? She wandered the corridors and halls of the ship with no real destination, praying for a distraction. Just when she had decided to venture to the training room and punch something for a while, she rounded a corner as a door whooshed open.

"Miss Tam," said Hux smoothly.

"General."

His eyes dropped, looking her up and down. "Are you aware of the time?"

She swallowed thickly. "I'm sure it's quite late."

"You're...a bit underdressed to be meandering."

She glanced down at her bare legs, her face burning. _Oh. Oops._ Hux was leaning against his doorway, and when he watched her realization he sighed.

"Come," he said. He angled his body, allowing her to see inside his room. "It's a marvel you made it here from your quarters without running into anyone. We can't have you going all the way back like that."

She followed him inside, steps slow and cautious, and his door closed behind her. He fished in his drawers for a moment as she took in the rest of his room. It was less sparse than Kylo's; Hux actually had a few framed pictures, and sitting on Hux's bed—was that a cat?

"Millicent, don't be rude, we have a guest," said Hux. He handed Ana a pair of light grey pants. "What a lazy hostess you are."

At the mention of her name, the buff tabby stretched, yawned, and leapt off the bed, twirling herself around Ana's legs.

"I didn't know you had a cat," she said weakly.

"Nor would I expect you to," said Hux. He reached down for the cat, who purred happily in his arms. "Dress quickly and go back to bed."

"I…" Her mouth felt dry with fear. "I don't want to go back."

Hux stared at her, long and measured, calculating something in his head. Then he gently passed Millicent to her and said, "I have paperwork. Don't bother me, and you can stay until my morning meeting."

"You're just like him," she said, and Hux stiffened. "He doesn't sleep much either."

It was a strange moment for her, sitting cross-legged on Hux's bed, a sleeping cat curled in her lap, while the general did paperwork by lamplight. Hux didn't ask her why she wanted to stay, or why she didn't want to sleep, but at one point he did glance up from his work and say, "I've seen you in the mess with one of the SL troopers."

"What of it?" Millicent nestled against the crook of her knee.

"Simply an observation. Though if I were to offer some advice…"

"I didn't ask for it."

His blue eyes were serious, mouth firm. "I will offer it anyway. Be careful."

"I know his intentions," she said. "There is no risk of me getting hurt, but your concern is touching."

"You misunderstand me." Hux lowered his pen. "You need to be aware of the consequences of your acquaintance. There is a price for being near a man like Ren." He gave it a moment to sink in, the implications of his words making her cheeks burn. "I don't much care if you get the soldier killed, we have hundreds of them, but I imagine you would care very much." He shrugged and went back to his paperwork. "Food for thought."

* * *

She told herself she didn't care. It had been a long time since she had felt _good_. She wanted a distraction.

She _deserved_ a distraction.

She didn't trust her room, not with the override code, and as a trooper he didn't get private quarters. The utility closet wasn't exactly a romantic spot for a tryst, but it was tucked away and it was private, and when it was over they could sneak off in separate directions.

He wasn't overly attentive, but he was experienced enough. When he tried to slow it down she forced him faster, more frantic. For the duration of it, and for an hour or two afterwards, her mind was blissfully blank. No Thena, no Elek, no 4239, and the best part: no _Kylo_.

It wasn't long before it all came crashing down.

Ana heard the commotion down the hall—yelling, people running. She followed the sounds, backtracking from the fleeing soldiers, and expected a crowd. Instead she found a hallway devoid of other people, just Kylo and a Stormtrooper. Everyone else had vanished, terrified to watch Kylo in one of his moods. The Stormtrooper was hovering in the air, his legs kicking uselessly. Wait, she recognized the number on the soldier's armor...

"Kylo?" Ana jogged forward, stunned at the image of Kylo Force-choking SL-3591, his mask off, his face enraged. "What's going on?"

"This _worm_ ," snarled Kylo, like an animal, teeth bared, "his thoughts are _disgusting_ , he dares to think that way at all, let alone in my presence—"

"Kylo, you're killing him!" Ana rushed forward, grabbing Kylo's raised arm. "Stop it! Put him down!"

"He doesn't deserve to live." There was nothing but pure rage in his eyes, fixated on the soldier.

"You're making a scene, let him go—"

His sheer anger burst into her head, so loud and harsh that it made her wince: _He was fantasizing about you_.

The guilt was immediate. _Hux was right._ Kylo froze, and the soldier dropped to the floor, coughing and sputtering.

"What was that?" His voice came flat and low and she realized her error. She hadn't built her shield back up.

"Kylo, hold on—"

" _Quarters_ ," he said through gritted teeth. " _Now_."

"Just wait a second—"

There was a whirr as he drew his lightsaber. "Go to my quarters," he growled, "or I kill him on the spot."

Ana bit the inside of her cheek, throwing a last glance at the soldier, and numbly set her feet in the direction of Ren's quarters. He followed behind her, the air crackling with tension, his lightsaber still glowing and buzzing. He practically shoved her into his quarters when the door opened, and she stood stiff as a board while he faced her, his chest heaving with his fury.

"Now," he said slowly, breathing through his nose, "what was that sneaky little thought you had in the hall?"

"Kylo, let me explain." _Why should I have to explain any of this to you? How is this any of your business?_

"I wish you would," said Kylo, his hair wild around his face. She was still surprised that he had not donned his mask before his assault on 3591. Had he been that recklessly angered by it all? "Why is a Stormtrooper walking around thinking about your naked body, what it feels like to be inside you?" He stepped close to her, heat radiating off his body, off his lightsaber, which his shaking hands kept at his side.

"Put it away," she said, voice tinged with concern and a bit of fear. She reached out, her hand closing around his wrist, and he surprised her again by shutting off the lightsaber and letting it drop to the floor.

"Why does he know what you look like when you orgasm? How does he _remember_ the way you moan when he bites your neck?"

A shiver passed through her. "Kylo, stop it. You shouldn't have reacted like that, who cares who I bed, it's none of your business."

"It reflects poorly on me if my attendant is a _whore_ ," he hissed through gritted teeth.

She stilled at that word and felt venom flood her mouth, sour on her tongue. "Perhaps, you're just worried it will _reflect poorly_ on you if it becomes public knowledge that your whore isn't spreading her legs for _you_."

Ana wanted to cheer at the expression on his face until his hand cracked across her face, hard and fast. She spiraled to the floor, tasting blood on the inside of her cheek.

"I've been entirely too soft on you," he said, gripping her hair in his hand. He lifted her from the ground, throwing her against the opposite wall with such force that she wondered the metal didn't dent. "Allow me to remedy that."

He picked her up by her throat and squeezed, holding her level with his eyes. Deliriously, she exhaled what breath she had in a choked laugh. His brows flexed momentarily into a frown.

Good, she thought. This is good. Remind me why I hate you. Remind me how cruel you can be.

She thought of his unbridled fury, unleashed on unsuspecting consoles and inanimate objects. She just wanted her confusing feelings to stop, she wanted to be reminded of the kind of man he truly was—not the man who stopped shaking when she touched him, not the man who carried her limp body from a battlefield to his shuttle, not the man who kissed her as if he needed her.

Gently, too gently— _why so gently, Kylo?_ —he put her down and smoothed his hands over her shoulders. "Why do you insist on testing the limits of my self-control?"

She stared defiantly into his eyes and, after a moment's reflection on how stupid and reckless she was being, she spat blood at his face.

It was his calm as he wiped his cheek that scared her, sparked the fear deep in the pit of her belly. He leaned close, his voice dropping in pitch.

"If you are so desperate for a bed mate," he said, "allow me to indulge you."

"Don't." Her word was nothing more than a breath. He threw her onto the bed, half with strength and half with the Force.

"Let's see if you have any strong words when I'm done with you." He crawled toward her.

"Ren, don't."

"There you go ordering me around again." He stopped, hovering above her while she searched his eyes to gauge the seriousness of his threat. "Or would you rather I call in Hux? You did say you'd never let me touch you, didn't you? Perhaps I should call that soldier back? Or an entire legion, would that satisfy you, whore?"

She stared up at him in shock, too stunned to move, too lost in his anger to rebel.

"Choose," he snarled. "It's me or them. Decide now if I am really so disagreeable to you."

"You wouldn't," she whispered in sudden realization. "Not after how you reacted to 3591."

He hesitated, a strained look in his eyes. "You're right," he agreed. "I won't let anyone else touch you. Not even if you wanted them to. You're _mine_ , don't you remember?"

"That's not fair, Kylo," she murmured. She tried to cover her face with her hands but he caught her by the wrists, pressing them over her head into the pillows. "You possessive asshole, that's not fair."

His thumb pressed beneath her eye, swiped a tear before it fell. "Your tears stopped me once before. They will not stop me again." He lowered his head to her neck and let his warm breath drift across her skin. "What was it, you said? You would bite me until I bled, scratch my eyes out?"

"I will," she gasped. "So help me, I will."

"Somehow I think not."

He was pressing into her, his mind probing, and she threw up a hasty wall.

"I see how you look at me," his deep voice rumbled. "You think I don't, but I do. I don't have to see your thoughts to know you want me."

I don't, I don't, she chanted to herself. It was those stupid images, that stupid vision.

He hurled emotions at her wall and it chipped, his lust seeping through the cracks, so intense it made her cry out. He bombarded her wall with images until it crumbled and they slipped to her mind.

 _Kylo Ren in full armor, taking her against a wall while she groaned in pleasure._

 _Kylo Ren's strong arms throwing her to the bed, stripping naked before her so she could see every rippling muscle and jagged, faded scar._

 _Kylo Ren dipping down to kiss her between her legs while her fingers tangled in his soft dark hair and she choked at the feel of his tongue._

 _Kylo Ren encouraging her to take the lead while he watched her, using the Force to coax her to ecstasy above him and fuck, his face was so handsome when he fucked her._

 _Kylo Ren—Kylo Ren—_

She inhaled raggedly, her chest rising and falling with her breaths. "Please, stop."

"I won't," he said simply. "Show me what you feel."

Anger. Embarrassment. Fear. Something warmer that blended into her small twinge of arousal and a reminder of what the visions promised her—

"You've thought about it before," he said in an exhale. He sounded…relieved. "You've thought about me."

"Please," she whispered again as he dragged his hands over her form. "Not like this."

He pushed at her with the Force, she could feel it, and instinctively she tried to rebuild her wall.

"Let me in," he murmured at her ear. His breath sent shivers down her back. "You'll enjoy this, I promise."

The Force was ghosting over her, coaxing pleasure into her nerve endings, and she turned away from him as her cheeks flushed with fire. The pleasure built and she didn't know whether she wanted to cry or scream. "W-What are you doing?"

"One of the many benefits of the Force," he responded calmly, watching as she clutched at the sheets with her eyes squeezed shut. "I can show you pleasure you've never known."

A memory flashed through her mind of her earliest days on the ship, one of the first things he had ever said to her.

"I thought you said you had no desire for me," she said quietly.

"A man can't change his mind?" His hands ventured underneath her shirt, fingertips causing goosebumps on her skin.

"Stop—"

His chest to hers was feverishly hot even through the fabric of her clothes and his expression seemed almost angry. She cursed the jolt of electricity that slid through her body at his warmth.

"Stop telling me to stop," he hissed, and his mouth came crashing to hers.

His kiss was bruising, teeth and tongue and force, and she could do nothing but limply receive. Kylo didn't like that, growling low in his throat as his hand found her breast and squeezed.

She gasped and her mouth opened to him. He tilted her head, tugging on her hair until she reciprocated, freeing her hands which moved instinctively to his chest as though they belonged there. He was so warm under her hands, he was kissing her so thoroughly—oh, shit, she did want him. But not like this. Not when he was angry about the soldier she'd slept with, not when he was so fascinated with the desert girl—

"I am not fascinated with her," Kylo said, pulling back to glare at her. "And I'm not _jealous_ of the Stormtrooper."

"I didn't use the word jealous," she said, not even surprised at the ease in which he invaded her clouded mind.

His brows knitted together as if he were in pain. "You think I care about the scavenger girl."

"You said it yourself." _You feel the Light when you see her._

"I do not _care_ about the _desert rat_ ," he said, face twisted.

"Who are you trying to convince, Kylo?" Her whispered voice only made him angrier.

"You don't seem to understand me." His weight came down on her again. "I'll make you understand."

He kissed her hard, consuming her. Trailing down her neck, her collarbone, he pulled the uniform shirt from her body and she bit her lip to quell her rising fear. In response his mouth was back on her skin, gentler this time. Reassuring.

"I know what you think of this," he said, voice vibrating against her sternum as he placed a soft kiss between her breasts. "I want this to be good for you. I want…"

Her brain filled in his unfinished thought with the vision, the image the painful voice had shown her, and he stilled.

"Who showed you that?" he asked. "How did you see that?"

"It's what you want, isn't it?" she croaked. She sent it to him on purpose this time, going over every detail. She watched his expression carefully for a reaction and got nothing. "You want me like that. You don't just want to fuck me." She was scared—so scared—of what he might do, how he might react to this. "You want us to make love. You want me to care about you. You want—"

She should have expected him to get angry, lash out at the idea that maybe she was his weakness. His response hurt all the same: "I want you to remember your place."

* * *

A/N: I'm not sure if I'm entirely happy with this chapter. I wanted to show them both in their own kind of spiral: Ana because of her situation, and Kylo because of Ana. Let me know your thoughts on this one please. Thanks to all who review, follow, and favorite.


	18. True Cruelty

A/N: Mention of mature content, nothing too explicit.

* * *

She cried well into the night as he slumbered beside her, even when a cruel, stinging part of her mind told her to enjoy this while she could. Enjoy it while she could pretend that this man was something other than what he was. He had been rough with her, leaving her body sore and oddly, almost ashamedly, satisfied. Ana expected him to leave, cast her aside and leave her cold in his bed or throw her out with a wave of his hand. She wasn't prepared for the warmth of him and the softness of his touch when he instead pulled her tight and lifted the sheets over them. She pressed her palm to his chest and felt his heartbeat, thudding steady and calm beneath his flesh. She was in trouble, she was in so much trouble. She touched his arm, her fingertips just brushing along his skin, and she cried. She ran her hands through his hair, reveling in the downy strands, and she cried. She drank in his features, free of the usual anger and ferocity and tortured expression, and she cried.

There was a magnetism in his touch. She thought the soldier had made her mind clear; Kylo made her mind expand. She could feel _everything_ , saw the galaxy behind her eyelids, heard every harsh inhale and whisper of her name as he moved with her. For a blissful, frozen moment in time, nothing was wrong. She exploded into sparks and fireworks and he shuddered against her.

She was covered in marks, small bruises from his teeth and the force of his body on hers. There was no going back from this, not for her. How could she even look at herself in the 'fresher mirror?

She cried for Thena and Elek, for her freedom, for the feelings she didn't understand and didn't want. She cried for the man who seemed so peaceful now. So calm. A stranger.

I could love this stranger, she thought, and that thought made her sob.

She hid her face with her hands and curled into herself, muffling the noises against her palms, and fought the urge once again to scream.

Movement beside her made her heart jump, rolling away from him in fear. "Too loud," he muttered. "Your thoughts are too loud."

"Go back to sleep." Her voice came out choked, and she needed to leave, expel the energy buzzing in her chest. She sat up, the covers slipping away. "You never sleep."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back, flush against his bare chest. "I can hear you in my sleep," he said in a rough tone, weariness clogging his voice. "Your guilt is unnecessary."

 _Unnecessary_. Her guilt at lying naked with the man who had coldly murdered her only two friends in the world was _unnecessary_?

"I didn't kill the boy, the soldiers did." He sighed against the back of her neck. "I didn't kill the girl, either."

Ana's heart stopped. "Thena? Who killed her, then?"

His lips brushed her skin, oh so gentle. "No one killed her, nova. She's still in the lower levels of Coruscant, I'd assume."

Time stopped. She turned to face him, ignoring her tear-stained face and red-rimmed eyes, and said, breathless, "She's alive?"

"She doesn't talk, nova." There it was again, the nickname, his words said as though it should have been obvious. "There was nothing she could have told us anyway. I checked."

"She's alive." Ana had never felt such joy, such relief, and she forgot herself for a moment and shook him to wake him further. "You promise she is alive, that you left her there unharmed?"

"She can't _talk_ ," he reiterated. "Can't tell anyone about us, can't follow us, can't cause trouble. I recalled the stormtroopers, took you, and left."

 _Alive alive alive,_ her mind chanted.

"Fuck, and I thought your thoughts were loud before," said Kylo, wincing. "Can't you quiet them at all?"

He hadn't done it _for her_ , but he might as well have, she was so happy. A lopsided smile formed on his face as he sensed her thoughts-she hadn't even considered blocking him. He rolled on top of her, grinned boyishly down at her, and her heart skipped a beat again. _Stop that, right now,_ she scolded herself.

"Does this improve your opinion of me?" His lips trailed down her neck and she turned to expose more skin to him before she even realized she had done it. "Does it surprise you to learn I'm a man, not a monster?"

"Kylo…" Maybe she could pretend, just for a while.

He hummed contentedly against her collarbone. "You're…" He bit down, sucked harshly, as her hips bucked. "Intoxicating." He pulled back to admire the mark he had made on her flesh. "To think, it could have been like this the whole time."

He was hard against her thigh, his hands everywhere over her skin. She let him as he exerted the Force over her, amplifying her sensations as he rolled his hips sensually against hers.

"If I had known," he murmured, "I would have taken you that first week."

He was inside her, her head, her body, her everything. She clutched onto his arms in an attempt to ground herself, her thoughts swimming and disjointed. What was he saying?

"You should never have let that trooper touch you," he said with a particularly hard thrust.

She cried out, a wave of fresh embarrassment tamping down her pleasure, but then he was kissing her and she couldn't think of anything else.

* * *

She didn't expect anything to really change in the morning, when Kylo dressed in his usual billowing black robes and she rose to take a shower. She was steeling herself for the cutting words, the anger, for the inevitable cycle to start again now that he had gotten her out of his system. _Four times total_.

Her legs wobbled as she walked to the 'fresher, purposely keeping her eyes downcast to avoid the mirror. She thought she could hide in the shower while Kylo left, but that idea shattered into a million pieces when he opened the door and leaned against the frame. Ana stopped, feeling vulnerable, as the water ran over her. He hadn't yet donned his mask, hadn't yet put on his cape, and he stood and just looked at her for a moment. She couldn't move, could barely breathe, when he locked eyes with her and began removing the shirt and pants he had so carefully just put on.

"Don't you have a de-briefing with Hux," she said, her voice barely above a murmur.

"I won't be late."

When he was fully naked she dropped her gaze, facing away from him as the water warmed her back. He stepped under the water behind her, one of his long arms reaching over her and resting against the wall while the other curled around her waist. She reached up for him on impulse and then hesitated. Kylo moved his grip from her waist and took her hand, guiding her touch; she absently ran her fingers through his hair as the strands dampened.

He took her again in the shower, bracing himself against the wall with a strength that frightened her and thrilled her. He bit her shoulder when he was through, sighing against her damp skin, and she bit her lip to stifle the sound of her own undoing. Kylo left her to dress, and for a moment she didn't move. She stared dead-eyed at the droplets collected on the shower wall, the evidence of their coupling between her thighs, and it was a long time before she moved to dry herself off.

"Dress quickly," said Kylo when she exited the 'fresher. He was back in his black attire, his mask the only piece missing. "Master Snoke has requested a meeting with you. Afterwards, you and I have some things to discuss about your accommodations here."

"My…" Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. "My accommodations?"

Kylo clicked the mask into place. "New clothes should be first, I think." He reached for her, so suddenly she took a half step back on impulse and for a moment he froze. Then he reached forward again, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "You were right, nova. I shouldn't be leaving you behind on my missions. You will be at my side from now on. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

He was being so gentle, so reassuring and kind, and she blurted without thinking, "I want to go to Thena."

His touch dropped away from her face. "What?"

"Thena." Ana licked her lips, searching his mask, wishing she could see his face. "She's alive. I want to find her, I want to go back to Coruscant."

"Impossible," Kylo spat. "I told you she was alive so that you could close that chapter."

"Close the...I can't just leave her there, Kylo, she's important to me."

"No."

Ana felt the familiar rush of indignance, the familiar rise of rage. "No?"

"No, you are not going back to Coruscant," he hissed, advancing. "No, you are not going to retrieve the little mute, and _no_ , I will not change my mind on the matter. The life you had is over, Anavexi. Do not mistake my leniency with compromise. I do not give and take." His cape brushed the metal floor as he turned away from her. "This is not up for discussion, _ever_."

Her anger swelled and she seized it like an anchor. Her hand shot out, snagging a pillow, and she chucked it, unthinkingly, at the back of his _awful, shiny, piece-of-shit helmet_ —

It bounced harmlessly over his shoulder; her aim had been off. She grabbed for something else, throwing another pillow, then her clothes, one item at a time. The boots in particular made a satisfying thump on his back, and when she ran out of things to throw she was left shaking and crying and naked.

"You're a _tyrant_ ," she shrieked. "And for a second I thought, I thought—"

For a moment he stood with his back to her, and there was no sound but her own heaving breaths.

"You thought what?" he said, and the change in his voice was obvious. His posture was straight as a board again, his tone terse. Everything about him was just as it was before. "That I had changed? Don't fool yourself, little girl. This isn't a fairy tale. People don't change."

Ana didn't feel grounded. She wanted to laugh, cry, scream, choke him. He was doing exactly what she knew he'd do, but it felt forced. Like he was trying to convince himself. She didn't know what to do with that.

"Don't keep Master Snoke waiting."

When he left the room, she sank to her knees. She traced her trembling fingers over every mark he'd left on her.

"You're a liar, Kylo," she whispered to herself. "Something is different." _Snoke knows it. You know it. Why do you insist on being cruel?_

Ana picked her clothes up where they fell and dressed herself, walking numbly the way she recalled to the large, dark meeting room. Her steps were leaden. She dropped her gaze, imagining what she would do if she were accompanying Kylo to one of his meetings, and waited for the hologram to come to life. The wait was agonizing, but it wasn't much better to hear a rumbling, cold voice say, "I must say I am not entirely pleased with the way things are progressing."

 _It's your fault for putting the idea in my head, I never wanted this—_

"Impertinence will not benefit you, girl," Snoke said, tone poisonous. Then he seemed to calm. "It seems you didn't heed my warning. Something will have to be done about that."

Her shield wouldn't have mattered, even if she'd had the proper time to construct it. He flooded her mind with pain and all she could do was scream.


	19. Doubt

Ana awoke with her head heavy and her body numbed. Bright light seeped past her eyelids, making her wince, and she tried to turn away from it.

"Off," she croaked to no one in particular, and her voice was raw and hoarse.

"Lean on me," said a gentle voice in response, deep and close enough to her ear that the owner's breath gave her shivers.

" S'too bright."

"Turn towards me."

She tilted her body towards the voice, her hands blindly finding purchase in slightly-starched shirt material, and two arms dipped under her body to lift her up. She buried her face into him—it was a him, surely, from the voice and the distinctly masculine chest she was pressed against—to shut out the light.

"What did you do to anger him?"

Ana grunted. "I'm impertinent," she paraphrased.

There was a low chuckle and a hum that rumbled the chest she clung to. "While true, that doesn't quite answer my question."

The brightness dimmed to a bearable level and Ana risked cracking open one eye, shocked to see copper-colored locks. "Hux?"

"And you were expecting…?" Hux lifted his eyebrow. "Ah, that's right, your Knight in shining tin, Ren. Strange, isn't it, that he isn't the one retrieving you. Shall we ask him together?"

"Where…"

"Snoke summoned me to...clean you up, so to speak." Hux walked through the hall, unfazed by the girl in his arms. "I imagine a part of him was concerned how Ren would react. He can be quite...volatile."

"He tortured me," said Ana quietly. "Because of Kylo."

Hux's mouth was set tight, his jaw locked against something he might regret saying. "Careful of the company you keep, I suppose."

"He thinks I make Kylo...unfocused."

"He is entirely correct." Hux chanced a glance down at her and then straight forward again, no change in his expression. "That seems to be your general effect."

"I'm a distraction," she continued, muttering in a voice that didn't feel like her own. "A detriment to his training."

"Indeed you are."

"Snoke is worried that Kylo cares about me."

"Perish the thought."

"He doesn't want me encouraging him."

"Can't have that, can we?"

"Is this a joke to you?" She should have sounded angry, furious even, at the way he was mocking her, but she was just so tired.

"Would you rather I fawn over you like a nursemaid?" Hux asked, and Ana wrinkled her nose at the word 'nursemaid.' "You can handle a bit of rough treatment, can't you? You've been under Ren's thumb for several months now."

Rough treatment? He called Snoke's torture rough treatment? She opened her mouth to retort, only for her response to die on her lips when she saw Hux faintly smiling.

Was he trying to distract her? Make her feel better?

"You can put me down," she said.

He paused and lowered her feet to the floor with surprising gentleness. Her legs were weak but with enough focus they held her weight despite a slight wobble. Hux walked alongside her the rest of the way to her quarters, matching her slow pace. She wondered briefly if that had been his strange way of motivating her.

"Thank you," she said when they reached her door, and he looked to her in mild surprise. "For coming to get me."

"Your thanks are unnecessary," he said in return. He clasped his hands behind his back, returning to his staunch military posture. "I was merely following orders."

Once inside her room, she collapsed boneless onto the bed. Tear tracks had dried down her face, the skin feeling tight and dirty, and she could feel caked blood beneath her nose. It had only been an hour, just a single hour, but it had felt like days. Snoke had tortured her with bouts of pain alternating with hallucinations, pulling apart her mind like dissecting a frog. Her body ached, but physically there was nothing wrong with her. No obvious wounds. Nothing would scar. No sign at all of what she had endured.

But the worst part, the worst part was the voice. The voice inside her head that still sounded like him, that still muttered mean spirited things and whispered that she was worthless, the voice that wasn't quite Snoke but wasn't quite her own. That voice began again in the quiet, laughing at her exhaustion and calling her weak.

Here, in the dark of her room, alone with that voice Snoke had planted, she felt fear come creeping in—a fear that hadn't pursued her since she was one of Ghrrik's girls. Snoke whispered to her that Kylo didn't understand what he needed, that he was using her as an escape from what he knew must be done—that it wasn't really Kylo that wanted her but the remnants of someone named Ben, someone long dead, and when Kylo realized she would be thrown away.

Worthless, he chanted. Nothing. A tool for his own selfish needs. A weakness that Kylo was trained to dominate in favor of greater power. He has murdered his own father in pursuit of his goal, gutter welp, what real importance could you possibly have to him?

Snoke was right of course. Why hadn't she thought of it sooner? She had always prided herself on her pragmatism, when had she gotten so deluded? She was just a street girl, a thief from Coruscant. A whore.

There was a sound at her door and she rolled over, covering her face with a pillow. She didn't want to see him, didn't want to confront the way he had begun to look at her—she would crumble like dust. The presence at her door was wrong though, she could tell from here. They weren't insistent or impatient they were just waiting. She groaned, pulling her tired body over to the door, and opened it to reveal a young woman holding an armful of bundled fabric in strong, saturated colors. Her hand clenched on the doorframe.

"Commander Ren sent me," said the young woman. She wore the drab grey of other _Finalizer_ crew, but she didn't speak like an officer.

"What for?" Ana asked dumbly.

The woman blinked at her in silence before replying, "He doesn't want you to wear that anymore."

She gestured at Ana's black pants and baggy shirt, and Ana remembered—he was making changes to her "accommodations." New clothes, he had said. She stepped back to allow the woman in, watching her lay the fabric onto the bed. The woman told her to undress; she hesitated, her fingers hovering over her scarred shoulder.

The woman saw her pause. "Commander chose these designs specifically," she said, as if that were supposed to reassure Ana. She cursed to herself—it did.

* * *

The woman, whose name she had learned was Petra, stepped away and let Ana view herself alone in the mirror. She didn't recognize the girl she saw, and the longer she looked the more her feeling of despair and dissolution grew.

"That's not me," she murmured.

Petra looked pleased, but it wasn't a positive effect. She didn't remember a time when she had ever worn a dress that wasn't meant for whoring, so this vibrant red thing felt foreign. She didn't have the best association with skirts, remembering the barely-there outfits she'd worn as she took a customer to her room with a disgusted shudder. This outfit was miles away, but tears pricked her eyes anyway. She wasn't _her._

The dress had a square neckline and layered sheer cap sleeves; a gossamer A-line skirt brushed the tops of her feet. It was positively regal. She could see why Kylo would have chosen it, but it didn't suit her. She didn't fill out the bust, her posture terrible in a way that made the cap sleeves slide down her shoulders. This was a dress for someone with presence. Someone beautiful. Someone _worthy._

"Much better," said a deep, rumbling voice. It took Ana a moment to realize the words had been said aloud, not in her head, and she cursed the _motherfucking override code_.

Petra bowed to him, _bowed_ , and in the mirror Ana watched him wave her away; the woman scurried out the door like a mouse. He was leaning against the entry frame, the auto-door closing as soon as he stepped inside. He removed his mask, and Ana saw a predatory gleam to his dark eyes.

"I'm surprised," he said. "I thought you would fight me on this." His hand ghosted over the fabric across her backside. "Pleasantly surprised," he purred.

Ana stared steadfastly at the mirror as he placed himself behind her, his body warm against her back. He hummed approval low in his throat, gripping her hips and holding her flush against him.

"What do you think? He asked, lips to her ear.

"How am I to fight in this?" she said tonelessly. "It's too…" _Pristine. Elegant. Fragile._

"Surely you've noticed the freedom of movement." He smirked, running his palms down her hips to the slits in the fabric she hadn't noticed before, and slid underneath to the bare skin of her thighs. "To answer your question, this is not for fighting. You won't be wearing this when you accompany me on missions."

"When will I be wearing this?"

"The rest of the time, of course." He planted a kiss at her neck. "Around the ship. To any gatherings I might be called into."

"Gatherings," she intoned numbly.

In the mirror, he stiffened. "What could possibly be wrong with you now? Is it not to your liking?"

"I look different."

"That's the point, isn't it? Don't tell me the queen of lower Coruscant is _particular_." He was partially teasing if his tone was any indication, but she could hear the annoyance bleeding through.

"Why are you dressing me up?" she asked instead. What was the point? She held her breath, thinking she had made him angry again, and was surprised when he broke into a smile that made her heart skip.

"I admit, it was a selfish desire on my part." His hands resumed their path beneath the dress and despite herself Ana felt her breath hitch. It wasn't fair, what this man could do to her with a few simple touches—

"I thought I would enjoy you in these outfits," he said, as she tried to focus on his words and not his fingers. "I designed them myself, but I underestimated you." She felt his desire as he lifted the thin skirt until she was bare to his searching eyes. Against her will, her mind screaming at her, her head fell to the side so his lips could tease her neck. "You look even more enticing than I could have hoped."

She was his plaything. He wanted to dress her up, like his own person _doll_ —

Just as her indignation rose, he added quietly, "I thought you might like to have something nice. You've never been spoiled before, have you?"

 _You manipulative son of a…_ His words disarmed her completely, and before she could fully recover he was suddenly sheathed in her and she gasped at the intrusion. He turned her face, one hand cupping her jaw, so that he could kiss her as he moved. She clutched at his arm like a grounding line, gaping and moaning into his mouth.

"Only the best for my nova," he murmured with a smirk, his actions gentle and full of desire, and it didn't fit. It didn't match. It didn't make sense. They were so close together, melded and fitted—her legs shook, struggling to support her, and her will snapped like a brittle twig as he struck something inside her and she clung to him. He grunted his appreciation of the shift but kept the maddening pace. She couldn't stand it, the care he was taking with her, the way he was looking at her. Just like in her vision. For a split second, fear sliced through her that maybe none of this was real. Maybe she was still under Snoke's control and he was messing with her.

Kylo grunted her name and she felt something warm fill her. He breathed heavily into her ear, his strong arms supporting her at her waist. He chuckled breathlessly, still holding the skirt, and said, "Wouldn't want to ruin it so soon, take it off."

As the fabric lifted off of her, over her head, covering her eyes, a sudden surge of courage filled her and she whispered, "Who is Ben?"

Kylo froze, the dress still pulled across her vision, trapping her arms. She felt the tension, the shift in the atmosphere, and she wanted to take it back, to retract the question, but suddenly her lips were moving and she asked it louder.

"Who is Ben?"


	20. Without

The fabric of the dress fluttered back down around her, freeing Ana's eyes. There was a feeling like the floor had dropped out from beneath her, and then his arms locked across her collarbone. Her stomach flipped and Kylo's arms were smothering, suffocating. She was no longer in his room, she was somehow, suddenly surrounded by nothingness. She tried to call out to him but her voice was choked, and the man behind her begin to shake.

"What did you just say?"

It wasn't him asking that question, it was a woman.

"Put that down, Ben, you'll break it."

She wasn't in nothingness anymore, floating weightless and strangled—she was in a dim room lit only by holoscreens, holding something silver in tiny, childlike hands. A woman bent down to her eye level and took the silver object away, her hair coiled elaborately at the crown of her head and brow creased into a disapproving frown.

"Don't take things that don't belong to you, Ben," the woman said to her. "After my meeting, we are marching down there and apologizing to Uncle Luke."

The silver object snapped into focus as the woman strapped it to her belt: a lightsaber. The blood fled from Ana's face. There could be only one Luke with a lightsaber. _Luke Skywalker is Ben's uncle. This is a memory. Kylo is Ben._

Just as quickly as the vision appeared it was sucked back, ripped away like the lightsaber from tiny Kylo's— _Ben's_ —hand, and Kylo let out a low, pained growl. The air vibrated with tension. There was a tremendous impact against her back as the Force rippled from him like a tsunami wave; she was shoved hard into the wall, the furniture of the room skidding and catching on the grated floor as everything, _everything_ , was pushing away from him until he stood trembling alone in the center of the room.

She had surprised him with her question, she realized with a cold, sinking feeling. She had shocked him truly for the first time, and he had dropped his guard. She was not meant to have seen that but somehow, somehow he had broadcast to her that one strong, ingrained memory of childhood rejection.

"Kylo—" she said, no more than a broken whisper.

Her mind swam with questions. What happened to him? How had he become this... _this_? She had never been able to imagine him in his youth. She had never stopped to try and picture him as he might've been. Naive. Trusting. _Innocent._ In a way he could never be as Kylo Ren.

He hadn't always been Kylo Ren.

While she struggled to settle on an emotion—anger, fear, curiosity, compassion, sympathy—a deep rumble began to emanate from him. His large hand covered his face, in what she thought at first must have been shame, but it soon became clear. He was laughing.

It was a deranged sort of laugh, too loud and too sharp.

"Are you satisfied, snake?" he snarled through his predatory, crazed grin. "Pleased that you managed to discover the evil commander's sad little secret? Do you pity him now?" The grin vanished. "Get out."

"What?"

In a blur of movement, he was towering over her, his hand tightening around her throat, and his dark eyes were wild. "Get. Out." He squeezed around her windpipe. "Out of this room and off my fucking ship."

For a moment she almost didn't believe him. All his possessiveness over her, all his anger and his attempts to keep her contained, the sweet way he had just held her before she had asked that _stupid_ question, and he was going to let her go? Not just let her go, but actually _kick her out?_

"Or would you rather I kill you?" he asked in a voice she didn't recognize. Something feral shifted in his face. "That's what you expect of me, isn't it?"

She gasped for air. _You're scaring me, Kylo._

He dropped her and she inhaled so fast she began to cough, rubbing her throat. She thought there was a reprieve, that his anger was spent and it was over, until she heard the igniting whirr of his lightsaber.

"You have to the count of three," he snarled.

* * *

Ana moved mechanically through the hall to the hangar, the scarlet dress feeling cheap and dirty on her skin. What had just happened? Why did she feel so empty?

She bumped mindlessly into something and swayed back away from them, recoiling from the human contact. "Sorry," she murmured, eyes downcast.

She should be excited at the prospect of leaving. She could get back to Coruscant, find Thena, she could—

 _What, return to thieving? Return to Ghrrik?_ How was she going to support them this time? If her time here had proven anything, she was only really good at two things. _Fighting and fucking_.

More than that, _how was she even going to get back to Coruscant?_

"I can't pilot a ship," she grumbled to herself, rubbing hard at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I can't program a ship. The fuck does he expect me to do?"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say our little spitfire is a bit weepy."

"Fuck off, Hux," she groaned.

"Ah, my mistake, she's fine." Hux glanced at her attire and raised an eyebrow. He was walking alongside Phasma, in full armor, presumably giving some kind of report. "New look?"

"Fuck _off_."

"Yes, you suggested that already," he said dryly. "You're dangerously close to the docking bay, my dear. Best spin those skinny legs around before your handler throws a fit."

"He…" She stopped, wondering if she could trust them. Hux was a servant of Snoke above all else, a general of the First Order. She didn't imagine Snoke would be that thrilled when he learned that Kylo had sent her away. Would Hux report on her right away? Would she be forced to stay? If she was, how would Kylo react?

What would honestly happen to her if she stayed and he didn't want her?

 _I can't get out of here on my own. I don't know anything about ships. I need his help._

"He told me I could go." Somehow she got the words out without much bitterness, but Hux seemed bemused and suspicious nonetheless.

"Go?"

"Leave." She cleared her throat. "He told me I could leave the _Finalizer_."

Now Hux's eyes narrowed. "And go where, exactly?"

Here, she hesitated. "Wherever I want."

"And where," his voice grew steadily more poisonous, "is that? Don't tell me you plan on going back to the gutters of Coruscant where we found you."

"You didn't find me, you abducted me, let's be clear," Ana snapped. His responding smile, equal parts annoyed and... _relieved_?...made her uncomfortable. "And so what if I am? That was my home."

Hux scoffed at her, waving his hand dismissively, and Ana puffed her chest.

"Thena is there, and she's important to me, and I'm going to get her no matter what you say—"

"And take her where?" Hux asked. "Or are you planning to camp down in a cozy little hovel just below the poison smog?"

What did he care, what was it to him? She felt her anger rising, tamping down the voice in her head that had nearly convinced her to ask him for help.

"If you think Leader Snoke is going to allow Ren to follow through with such a rash decision—"

There it was, there was the duty-bound general to ruin her plans and keep her a prisoner and fuck him, fuck all of this, she was going to leave. Because _she_ wanted to, not because of Ren, but because _she wanted to escape_. She should've been trying from the beginning, she should have fought him earlier, left him earlier, gotten in the final word instead of letting him get the best of her—

"Sir," said Phasma lowly. "I have a proposition."

* * *

A base on Corellia.

That was Phasma's proposition.

The First Order had a _base_ on Corellia.

Halfway between prisoner and free woman might as well be prisoner, Ana thought. But she would have Thena. Phasma sat beside her in the pilot's chair of a small shuttle, inputting the coordinates. They would head to Corellia first, where she and a small detail of Stormtroopers— "For your protection," Phasma suggested, but Ana knew what they were really for—would travel to Coruscant and retrieve Thena. Hux begrudgingly promised, after Ana hotly threatened him, that no harm or entrapment would befall her. She wasn't sure if she believed him, but even she could admit that far from the _Finalizer_ , from Snoke and Ren, Corellia was a haven compared to the lower levels of Coruscant. A First-Order-occupied haven, but still...surely Thena would agree that being together on Corellia, living in relative comfort and relative freedom, was better than where they were. Thena would see what she had done to bring them back to each other.

And if she was being honest, a small, concentrated detail of Stormtroopers and an underpopulated base was the best possible scenario. She could slip the guards on the way back to the base or have Thena sabotage something to distract them and they could escape that way. If nothing else, Kylo had shown her she could kill.

That was sure to backfire on him if she had anything to say about it.

Phasma didn't say anything as they boarded the shuttle, Ana eyeballing the weapon at Phasma's side.

"Shouldn't have trusted Hux with this," Ana mumbled. "Should have just done this on my own."

"The general would have been ordered to hunt you down," said Phasma. "Trust me, this is preferable."

Her defiant nature spiked. "At least I'd be free."

"It's better to be alive than free."

Ana grunted, inclined to disagree, and muttered, "Sounds like it comes from someone who's never had to think about the options all that hard."

Phasma's armored hands gripped the shuttle controls tighter by a fraction, but the other woman said nothing and the rest of the ride passed in silence. Once, only once, she thought she felt a familiar presence reaching out to her—she didn't dare lower her defenses to let the presence get too near. After all, last time she had thought it was Kylo, and it had turned out to be—

Besides, he wouldn't be calling to her. He was the one who sent her away in the first place.

She hardened her barrier and the presence, the searching energy, retracted.

"We're here," said Phasma, and it sounded more ominous than she was sure the captain intended.

Corellia, known for its starship production and piloting schools, was prettier than she'd been imagining. Most of it was urban like the upper levels of Coruscant, but less cramped and the buildings less tall, allowing for a myriad of zooming vehicles above people's heads as they walked. As they flew overhead, she could even see some green patches—small mountains and grasslands and even a few moderate bodies of water. They passed over Coronet City without pausing, something that made Ana frown. Where _exactly_ was the base? They flew over a low valley with a small river flowing down its center and a heavy cover of trees, passed over a few minor metropolitan areas, and then Phasma began to take them in for a landing. The base on whose landing pad Phasma set down the shuttle was a squat, beige gathering of buildings that didn't appear to be much. A few troopers patrolled the exterior, and a group of three met them outside the ship, but the whole atmosphere felt much more lax and low-stress than the _Finalizer_. An uncomfortable gnawing feeling settled in Ana's stomach.

"A portion of our TIE fighters and pilots spend time to train here," Phasma explained, her—rather pointless—cape brushing the back of her chair. "Otherwise this facility is used only for production and storage."

"Doesn't that make it an easy target," Ana muttered. "With such low military presence to guard it."

"Our forces are needed elsewhere." Phasma's defense was stiff. "Besides, the First Order has held the entire planet of Corellia for a few years now. The base is isolated and well-hidden, I assure you."

Well-hidden in a valley basin must be an oxymoron, Ana thought. It would make more sense for the First Order to be occupying a base much closer to Coronet City, or Capital Spaceport, or even Tyrena—and Ana knew enough about history to know that the Empire had held a tight grip on all of those cities in the past. The Resistance would be much less likely to attack if the risk to civilians was high.

Stop overthinking it, she scolded herself. You're only going to be able to escape from here because of the isolation. Don't start wishing for the First Order to be smarter.

"Walk in front of me," said Phasma, gesturing.

Ana grumbled but did as she was told, and the soldiers waiting outside on the platform filed in front of her to lead her into the first building, Phasma bringing up the rear.

Ana made a mental note of each turn she took, tried to count how many doorways between her and the outside, but she lost track at the fourth long hallway. _Is this a flight base or a fucking labyrinth?_

The soldiers stopped in front of a skinny white door, said something to Phasma—Ana wasn't listening, attempting to mentally retrace where she'd left off after the second right—and departed. Phasma punched in a code on the pad next to the door and said, "Tam."

"What?" Ana barked, frustrated.

"Your quarters." Phasma tilted the chin of her helmet toward the open room.

"My cell," Ana corrected with a poisonous snap.

"Call it what you like." Phasma hesitated. "Meals will be brought to you via droid twice a day, and an EN unit will be by in the afternoons to escort you around the base if you wish to stretch your legs."

"Cell," Ana repeated.

"Try not to cause any trouble here," Phasma said. "The general and I have gone to a lot of effort in this endeavor—"

"I'm _so_ appreciative." Ana's voice dripped in sarcasm.

"You should be." Phasma waited until Ana had stepped into the small, dark room, and let her hand hover over the outside pad. "Expect the general to call on you shortly." She pointed to a small holo-terminal against one wall. "Try not to contact him out of turn."

"Yes, yes," Ana muttered. "I know the general is very busy."

Phasma appeared about to say something else but stopped before she did, and the door slid closed. The room reminded her of the first one Kylo had deposited her into: cramped yet bare, poorly lit. There was nothing to do to occupy her time, no books, nothing to interact with; surely they didn't expect her to sit idly like a dormant droid for the rest of her days?

Her first meal arrived via a tiny, black rollerball droid, and she began her attempt to measure time from there. Phasma must have brought her here in the relative morning, because some time after the first meal, the door slid open once more to reveal a shiny white EN soldier.

"Did you forget how to knock when they taught you to use that?" Ana asked, gesturing at the solid black blaster he held in front of him, pointed down at the floor.

The soldier said nothing. Ana stood from the bed, walked over to him and waved her hand in front of his lifeless mask.

"Anyone home?" she asked.

"I've been instructed to bring you to the training room."

Ana rolled her eyes. "Will I have a sparring partner or are you just there to shoot me if I try to run?"

The soldier said nothing and Ana sighed. _That's about what I expected_.

He led her to a sparse room with mild equipment—a few punching bags, a mat on the floor for sparring. She ran threw a few robotic stances, surprised to find herself missing Kylo as a fighting partner. When she was through, the EN trooper brought her back to her room and the door was shut again.

* * *

She was going to lose her damn mind like this.

It hadn't even been a full day. On her first days aboard the _Finalizer_ it hadn't been this bad; she'd had Kylo to banter with and the medics who spoke with her. Near-total isolation was...new.

She sat in front of the terminal and booted it up. She had never really properly worked a holo terminal before, but it had to be simple enough right?

While she tried to mess with it, tapping things at random—did she even know anyone's "communication frequency?"—the screen suddenly brightened.

"I'm incredibly busy, Miss Tam."

She'd recognize that clipped, proper voice anywhere. "Hux?"

 _Click._

 _Did he just hang up on me?_

She tried to replicate what she had done to get him in the first place. Had Phasma pre-programmed his frequency in? She did say he'd be checking in on her later, is that what she meant?

" _What_?"

"Why is it that I can hear you but not see you?"

 _Click_.

 _Bastard._

The screen was showing a short list of numbers now and a small, manageable looking menu. _I can work with this_. She pressed her index finger to the topmost set of numbers and the screen brightened again.

"This is quite annoying, Anavexi."

She tapped again on the screen and Hux's agitated, pinched face appeared. His uniform shirt was unbuttoned at the top, hair slightly tousled. Ana blinked at him stupidly for a second.

"Did you disturb my evening for a reason or are you just going to stare?"

"Sorry," she said, shaking herself out of it. "I'm not used to seeing you...relaxed. Evening? It's afternoon here."

"You do realize we are in different planetary orbits, don't you? And I am far from relaxed. Now, to the point, why did you _call_?"

Ana sat forward, elbows on her knees, and felt a grin split across her face. "I'm bored."

 _Click_.

She selected his frequency again, feeling dangerously close to giggling. He didn't answer, so she tried again and again and—

"I can't fathom how Ren could _stand you_ ," Hux hissed on the third try. "What do you mean you're _bored_?"

"You've got me locked up in a worse room than what I had on the _Finalizer_ with a droid that brings my meals and a trooper that has to follow me everywhere."

"Make nice with the trooper." Hux's eyes glinted in a manner that was almost playful. "You like troopers, don't you, Ana?"

Her cheeks flamed and she distracted him with the first question that came to mind: "Where's Millicent?"

"What?"

"Show me Millicent."

"I am not going to 'show' you my cat—"

"Millicent," Ana cooed. "Come see me."

"She's a cat, that's not going to work." Hux cursed, glancing down.

"She's round your ankles, isn't she?"

Hux reached down and suddenly a cat appeared in the frame and meowed at her. "Content now? Can I reclaim my evening?"

"I can't stay cooped up in here with nothing to do, Hux."

His smirk turned lecherous. "Entertain yourself."

She ignored his obvious hint and instead said, "Send me a book."

His smirk faltered. "What?"

"Send me a book. I want to read."

"This terminal has full access to the entire library of—"

"No, a real book."

"You expect me," he said in a low voice, "to send you a book. You're in another _solar system_ , Anavexi."

"I know you have them, I've seen your bookshelf." She rested her chin in her hand, tilting her head.

"That's my personal collection."

"I'll just keep calling."

"I won't answer," he fired back. "This is asinine, I don't have to be privy to your childish antics, I have things to do."

"I'm a general of the First Order," Ana mocked in a deep voice. "Blah, blah—"

 _Click._

Blah.


	21. Understanding

She hated that she had been here for several days, hated that she had fallen into a semi-routine, and hated that she had just made General Armitage Hux laugh. True to her word, she had kept calling him but surprisingly, after the third or fourth day, he stopped being annoyed at her and started being...well, rather pleasant. It was minorly off-putting, to be honest. For some reason she couldn't pinpoint, even after he had sent several books along with the trooper exchange between the base and the _Finalizer_ , she continued to contact him. Nightly.

The general's laugh tapered off. It wasn't as rumbling as Kylo's—she stopped herself there. Thinking about the dark-haired man made her chest tight.

Hux's copper hair was ungelled, falling in a natural wave on his forehead, wearing a plain black shirt. "Are you still sour with me for sending you there, Ana?"

"Of course I am," she said, rubbing her arm, feeling the goosebumps rise. "I'm bored to death here."

"Have you finished all the books?"

She checked the pile on the floor beside her modest bed. "I've got two left."

"That should tide you over until I visit, hm?"

"Visit?"

"I must oversee development of our newest starfighter," he said. "Set to begin next week."

Her mind began to race. With Hux's appearance would come heightened security. Heightened security would ruin everything, she'd have to wait even longer—and a new starfighter meant more men—she hadn't been watching these blasted men for days just to have her plans ruined—

"Ana?"

"Hm? Sorry," she said.

"You disappear often into your own head," Hux said in a low voice, his eyes searching through the screen of the terminal. "I wonder where you go."

There was a quality to his voice she didn't like. An acceptance she heard there, a warmth. A fondness.

"Was just thinking that I didn't think you knew how to laugh." She tried to disperse her anxiousness. His resounding grin didn't help.

"I'm still a man, Anavexi," he scolded gently, and it was too familiar for her. She squirmed in her seat.

He sensed her discomfort and sighed. "You're still bothered by him, hm?"

"I'm not."

"Yes, yes," he dismissed. "He's been quite insufferable since he cast you off, if it's any consolation. Has demanded of Phasma to know where you've gone."

"He hasn't beaten down your door yet?"

"I imagine he would, if he weren't worried what the Supreme Leader would say."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"When will I go to Coruscant?" _One more time. I'll try one more time._

Hux's face fell slightly. She had asked him almost every conversation. It was part of the original deal, the original promise. Go to Corellia first, he said. Lay low. We'll take you to Coruscant to get her and bring her back. Once you've shown you won't run, you'll gain more freedoms.

 _Get Thena and bring her back._

"You promised, Hux," she said quietly. "If I didn't run, you promised. I haven't run."

"It's barely been a week, Anavexi," he said back. "You'll forgive my skepticism that the moment you have her you won't immediately make an attempt."

"Then lock us each in a tiny room," she countered. "At least I'll know where she is, at least I'll know she's safe—"

"We've been over this, Ana. I'll revisit this after the starfighter construction is under way."

Ana bit her lip. She should have known, and in a way she supposed she did. She'd had a backup plan for this. She was a fool for thinking anything else, and honestly she should have expected this the second Phasma showed her to her room.

"You understand," said Hux, and then the screen went black.

Yes, she understood perfectly.

When the EN unit opened her door that afternoon, she was pressed flat against the wall beside the doorway. She held her breath, and after a few seconds, the silent soldier stepped inside when he didn't see or hear her, and she struck. One hand slammed down on his weapon, making sure the barrel was pushed to the floor, and the other curved in a harsh uppercut that caught just under that blasted helmet. His head snapped back, and she swallowed her disgust as she let the door close and made quick work removing his armor.

The inside of the trooper's helmet smelled like sweat and blood. She gagged once but finished clipping it in place over her head, wondering if the speakers in the helmet would distort her voice enough to avoid suspicion. When the rest of the armor covered her, the pieces fitting heavy and awkward on her frame, she grabbed his blaster and left the room, stopping only to relock the door and break the code pad with the butt of the blaster.

 _Straight down two halls_ , her memory told her. _Then a left, then a doorway, then straight and another left_ —

Or was it two doorways, left, and then straight again? Maybe there was a right in there she was forgetting.

She bit back her rising panic. She just needed to stay calm. She may be out of practice, but she had been a thief for many years. Reading people, lifting pockets, memorizing layouts and patterns to infiltrate a place without any of the occupants ever knowing she was there. This was her wheelhouse, wasn't it? A bold escape from a First Order base? Thena would love the stories she'd bring back, listening with her eyes wide, caught between worry that she had been too risky and pride that she had pulled it off—

Ana exhaled, squared her shoulders, walked with purpose. This would only work if she was confident and quick.

She got turned around a few times but waited until her portion of the hall had cleared before backtracking so as not to arouse suspicion. She was stopped a few times to salute to obviously higher soldiers, glad the helmet hid her scowl, and when she finally, _finally_ , reached the outdoor landing pads she let her shoulders drop in relief. It was too easy, a small voice in her head whispered. Without a hitch, from her room to a ship? Were they really so lax on this base? Had that singular soldier really been her only true obstacle?

A growl slipped past her lips, sparking into the helmet's vocal speakers. Did they truly underestimate her that much now?

She was faced with a choice now: the TIE fighters that sat on the landing pads were locked down, one or two Stormtroopers at each of the control panels that controlled docking mechanisms. Kill them or try to trick her way out again?

She approached the terminal with only one soldier, sweat dampening her brow.

"Prepare to undock the fighter," she said, hoping her commanding tone would keep him from answering questions.

It didn't work. "Under what orders? You're not a TIE pilot."

"I have been summoned by Captain Phasma." Another hope, this time that the name drop would help her and not bite her in the ass when Hux learned she was gone. "It's about the prisoner."

Surely on a base this small, not meant for detaining people, her presence had made the rounds. She assumed correctly. He scoffed slightly. "Commander Ren's castoff. I wonder if we'll be instructed to guard and imprison all his forgotten whores."

"Gossip is unbecoming of a soldier." She hadn't meant to snap so harshly, worried at first it would cause some doubt in him, but her hurt had made the line genuine, and she saw him straighten up.

"Of course," he said. "Forget I said anything." He tapped a few things on the terminal and the TIE fighter cockpit opened for her. She settled herself in and he reached up to hand her the shiny black helmet of a pilot, so that she could breathe once the ship was in space. She hesitated, and he seemed to notice, and she cursed herself. "Authorization code, to unlock the docking mechanisms?"

It was a trap. She hadn't done the interaction correctly, she had set him off, she had forgotten that EN units aren't even trained in flying TIE fighters, she should have tried to take a transport instead—She panicked spectacularly, lifting the blaster she still held in one arm and shooting him square in the chest. He flew back from the force of it, his body slamming into the terminal in a shower of sparks, and the docking gear malfunctioned. She grasped the controls, hoping they were similar enough to Kylo's transport that she could make do with shaky success. She remembered the movements of his hands so clearly—at the time she had told herself she was watching him fly, and now she realized she had just been watching _him_ —and clumsily lifted the fighter into the air.

 _I'm going to get myself killed._

The other Stormtroopers by now had noticed what was happening and were firing at her. Which button was the weapons on this ship? The TIE dipped dangerously while she was looking for the weapons, and when she grappled with the controls with white knuckles her thumb found a small, switch-like button on the main flight controls. Green light flashed and more terminals exploded, and a crazed grin split her face. _Found the weapons_.

She closed the cockpit door, ripping the Stormtrooper helmet off and trying, one-handed, to replace it with the pilot's helmet. The fighter jerked straight up in the air and she slammed the new helmet on, connecting her air supply, and quickly righted the ship with a nauseous gasp.

"I can do this, I can do this," she muttered into the pilot's mask. There was autopilot on these, she knew there was. She had read all of Hux's First Order literature he had sent her—she found herself immensely grateful he was such a workaholic, as half his books had been books on military tactics, First Order history, and one of the books even had a small section about the evolution of their TIE fighter technology since the time of the Empire. She could program the coordinates for Coruscant once she got off the ground and that would be it. She didn't need to know how to fly.

Ana would make them regret caging her with nothing but that holo-screen.

She got the ship out of the range of ground fire by merely flying straight up, the ship crooked and unbalanced from her inexperienced hands, and punched in her coordinates.

"I'm coming, Thena."

* * *

Ana was, ironically, immensely thankful for the First Order's obsession with improving its TIE fighters. Most small fighters weren't equipped with a hyperdrive, but they'd clearly learned something from their dogfights with X-wings. It was a benefit to have your ships able to jump in and away in a split second, across vast distances. She felt like she almost could have hugged Hux for his foolish, unintentional help in her goal. If he were here. _Almost_.

Her smile vanished from her face, however, as Coruscant began to grow in her cockpit window and she realized she didn't know how to land.

"Shit," she whispered. If she ejected, could she crash it somewhere? Who was she kidding, this was Coruscant, no matter where she took it there would be casualties from such a crash, someone would end up hurt or dead, maybe even her—

 _Don't lose your resolve now, Ana_ , she thought to herself. _You've gotten this far. You're a survivor._

She would crash the ship, she decided. Eject her pilot's seat, crash the ship somewhere as least-populated as she could. She and Thena could lay low for a while and then steal away on a much larger vessel, a transport that wouldn't ask questions and wouldn't take passenger logs. It would all be worth it once she was back with Thena and away from the First Order for good.

She aimed the TIE fighter for a landing strip meant for commercial leisure ships, ejecting her seat as she crashed First Order ship grew a crowd. The landing bruised her, but her adrenaline kept her from focusing on it for very long. She stripped off the disgusting-smelling armor, and set off toward the lower levels. Recognizing the area as the places Thena used to beg for credits, she at first waited for a glance of the sweet Mirialan, but no such luck. No matter. She rolled up her sleeves. She knew someone who was great at finding people.

Her lips curled in disgust as she walked into Ghrrik's place. It was just as it had always looked, tacky neon signs, rusted metal doors that didn't actually lock because there was no such thing as privacy for the girls he employed. It even smelled the same, a pungent odor of sex, desperation, and alcohol. A girl, human and covered in elaborate tattoos, leaned against one of the walls and sized her up as she came in.

"Got a type, sweetie?" the girl asked, her voice lilting and sickening.

"Not here for that," Ana growled. The Stormtrooper's blaster lightly smacked her hip as she walked. "I need to talk to Ghrrik."

The girl was clearly used to diffusing hostile situations, experienced and unfazed by the idle threat in Ana's words. She wondered how long the girl had been there. He usually didn't keep them longer than a few years. When the fear was gone, he replaced them.

The girl stood close, and Ana was pushed forward as a giggling, drunk man with a Keshiri girl. She flinched, and the girl lifted onto her tiptoes to whisper in her ear.

"You don't need Ghrrik. I'll keep you company."

Ana felt the wandering hand brush across her arm, her shoulder, aiming for the blaster—

She pressed the barrel of the blaster into the girl's stomach. "I can see why he kept you, but don't think you can fool a veteran, sweetheart. Now take me to Ghrrik so I can tell him Vex has come home for a visit."

The girl froze, finally realizing the gravity of the situation.

"He talks about you," she said, voice still a whisper. "As a threat when one of us gets idle. His favorite story is how he broke you and recruited that little Mirialan that used to follow you around—"

Ana's blood ran cold and she barely heard the frightened girl's words. "What? He recruited Thena?"

"He told us he left you sore and bleeding and then sold your battered body to the First Order—half the level saw you taken—" The girl was near tears, but Ana had no time to dwell on her newfound notoriety, or how Ghrrik had spun her capture to suit him. Here, she was going to threaten him into using his connections to find Thena, and Thena was here? That disgusting, slimy bastard had _Thena_ working as a fucking _whore_ —

Her rage filled her, quick and bitter and scorching. "Where is she?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Please, don't kill me—"

She barely recognized her own voice as she gripped the girl's hair, hard, and snarled again, " _Where is she?_ "

* * *

A/N: I rewrote the scene where she escapes several times until I settled on this one, though part of me is still not truly happy with it. I wanted to give this whole chapter a sense of being rushed, to tie together with her growing desperation; she grows less observant and less careful when she's impatient, and I tried to reflect that in the writing.

However, I will hint that there's a reason why it was so easy for her to get off the planet, why that particular TIE fighter was available...let's just say her paranoia in that moment wasn't too misplaced.

Hope I haven't disappointed with this chapter. Thank you for sticking with this story, I hope to update soon!


	22. Influenced

Ana followed behind the girl, for the moment grateful that it was common for Ghrrik's girls to seem just a little frightened at all times—part of their "charm" to their particular clientele—so it simply looked as if Ana were a customer. No one even spared a second glance to the blaster Ana carried. The girl led her to the hall in the very back of the place, three doors on either side. Only one was open, the one at the far end. Ana's jaw was set tight with anger, and the girl was still babbling.

"—he said she still needed training—she kept crying and the clients complained—"

Ana pushed her into the open room, relief a cool waterfall when she saw the familiar figure sitting on the bed, knees pulled to her chest, her head down.

"Thena," Ana breathed.

The Mirialan's head flew up in shock. Ana gave the girl another shove into the room.

"Thena, get up, we're leaving."

She was still too skinny, Ana noticed with a rush of anger. Ghrrik wasn't even making sure his new "asset" was eating properly. A bruise on her arm peeked out from the sleeves of the terrible dress she wore, no doubt a sign of the "training" the girl had mentioned.

The Mirialan met her eyes and for a second there was nothing but blinding happiness. Thena launched herself at Ana, her small arms locking behind Ana's back. Then she pulled back, her happy expression clouded with hurt, and she gave Ana's midsection a light slap.

"I know," Ana said, voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry it took me so long. But I'm here now, and we're leaving."

The tattooed girl had fled at some point, but Ana didn't care. It was Ana's fault Thena was here in the first place. How desperate must she have been to come here? Thena pulled back, frowning, and mouthed something: How?

"It's a long story," Ana said. "I'll tell you all about it when we're safe. I'm sorry I left you alone."

Thena was gesturing frantically, looking at the blaster, hands flitting to check for injuries.

"I'm fine," Ana reassured her. "They weren't...I made do. Some days it wasn't even…" Ana shook her head, torn between the memories of Kylo holding her and then throwing her out—of Hux mocking her and then carrying her after Snoke's torture— "It doesn't matter. We're going."

Thena went rummaging through the dresser that sat in the corner of the room, producing a bag—Ana assumed it to be whatever wages Ghrrik had allowed her to keep. A sour taste rose in her mouth, burned her throat.

"Leave it," she said, full of anger and bitterness. "We'll get money some other way."

Thena's expression faltered, but Ana was already leading her out. The hallway had cleared, which should have tipped her off, but she was too preoccupied with her next step. She gripped Thena's hand, pulling her along in her urgency, only to stop dead in her tracks as she rounded a corner and caught sight of a broad, heavily-armed man.

"Thena, stay behind me," Ana said under her breath. Thena looked between them, her eyes wide, and she seemed to shrink. Louder, to the man, Ana commanded, "Out of my way."

"Do my eyes deceive me?"

Her skin crawled at the sound of his voice, the way he oozed from the shadows like a true Umbaran. Ana leveled her blaster.

"It's good to see you again, my little Vex. You've grown," Ghrrik said, smiling at her, and the charm in his voice coated her like slime. He was a master manipulator, but she wasn't a desperate little girl anymore. She had the upper hand.

"Go on, give me another reason to pull the trigger," Ana said. "Or get out of the way, and live to pimp for another cycle."

"After everything I gave you?" Ghrrik clucked his tongue. "Ungrateful, isn't she?"

She wouldn't rise to the bait, she _wouldn't_ let him push her. "I'm giving you a chance. _Move._ "

Every inch of her was screaming to make him pay, to make him _suffer_ , and that unbridled hatred scared her. She didn't feel like herself, she felt like…

 _Like Kylo._

"You expect me to just let you waltz out with my property?" Ghrrik smiled again, all teeth, at Thena. "I'm not done with her yet, pet. I'll be sure to give her back when I am."

"The First Order is coming." The words left her mouth before she could stop to think about them. They drew a sharp gasp from Thena, and Ghrrik's brow furrowed. "Don't you remember, you're the one who claimed you sold me to them. They're tracking me, they'll be here any minute. They'll shoot anyone they have to in order to find me." A sardonic smile lifted her lips. "You know how Stormtroopers can be."

For a brief moment, Ghrrik's already-gaunt skin seemed to pale even further. A small thrill went through her as she realized she had succeeded in making him nervous.

The moment came crashing down, however, when he countered with, "Good girl, putting the skills I taught you to use."

The fog descended like a heavy curtain and for the first time, she felt almost...calm. There was a voice in her ear, a presence at her back, whispering darkly that hatred was power and _oh_ did she feel powerful. She could crush him and not even break a sweat.

His puffed-up bodyguard was dead before he even hit the floor, but Ana didn't slow. She moved behind Ghrrik with quick, practiced movements; one hand brought his left arm back and twisted it so hard it popped out of its socket, but his cry of pain was cut off as the knee she threw into his back knocked the breath from his lungs. She forced him onto his knees, keeping her kneecap pressing just so into his spine, and curled her other arm around his neck. His eyes bulged with fear, shifting wildly around, and she _reveled_ in it.

"You don't get to take credit for me," she hissed at him. "I am the way I am _in spite of you_. I am so much stronger than you, Ghrrik, you pathetic worm, and if you live past the next ten minutes you _will regret_ everything you've done to me." Her grip tightened. " _And to Thena_."

He choked and spluttered in a gloriously undignified fashion. How had this man ever held any power over her in the first place? He was so _small_.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't break you in half." She pressed her knee in harder to his back.

He was struggling to say something, so she eased her grip around his throat to let her voice out.

"Vex," he gasped out, that disgusting name he'd given her, the name she'd _hated_ , "you can't. I—I gave you a place to stay, you would have died on the streets."

"I survived without you this long, haven't I?" She took a sick glee in watching the nervous sweat bead on his pallid skin. "Next."

"No one else would have taken you in after what you'd done, they'd have let you be arrested, I saved you!"

"Saved me?" she intoned, and she felt a slow, easy smile pull at her lips. "By turning me into a whore? By convincing me all I would ever be good at is lying on my back? You stupid, brutish man. I am so much _more_ than you."

It was over in an instant. The relief as she let her loathing wash over and through her, as the source of so many years of shame fell lifeless from her arms, was intoxicating. This was the closest she'd been to happy in...

She looked up, chest heaving, and the look on Thena's face stopped her cold. The Mirialan's eyes were wide in horror, staring agape at the bodies on the floor. Then she looked up at Ana and Ana nearly wept—sheer terror. She took a step toward Thena, and the young girl took a stumbling step back, and if that didn't sting more than _anything_ —

"I did it for you, Thena. He couldn't just be allowed to keep operating like this, don't look at me like that, please." She cleared her throat. "Let's just go, okay? Together. I can protect you."

Thena shrank away from her and it was a knife in her heart.

"Thena, we don't have time for this—"

An explosion interrupted her, and her ears rang with the force of it. Girls were screaming, running, doors opening as the clients poked their frightened heads out to see what was happening. Ana knew before she saw, she just _knew_ , so when the Stormtroopers marched through the halls, through the clouds of a smoke grenade, it was all she could do not to scream aloud. Thena was trying to retreat further back into the hall, back into the tiny room, away from Ana and away from the troopers. She looked betrayed and so, so scared.

"Thena, look at me—"

"Ana!" Hux's booming voice cut her off and she watched Thena's cheeks pale.

"Everything is fine, Thena, we can escape, it's—" She fired the blaster at the first glimpse of white armor. "Thena, stop dawdling, let's _go_!"

But Thena wasn't going to go, and no matter how Ana struggled, she could see that. Thena was looking at her like— _like she doesn't know who I am anymore_.

"I'm still me," Ana whispered. "I haven't changed."

Thena looked down at the bodies again, then raised her head and shook it adamantly. She was crying, backing away, and when Hux shouted for Ana again, Thena turned her back on her and ran back to the little room.

Ana's heart broke.

Hux rounded the corner in a rush but slowed when he saw her, just standing there in the hall. He stepped gingerly over the bodies on the floor, unbothered by them, and sighed deeply.

"There you are," he said. "Foolish girl."

For a moment, Ana said nothing. She stared at the empty place where Thena had been, and then carefully built a mask of indifference before turning to the general. She would protect Thena from them, at the very least, and give her time to escape. Thena would understand why she had to do what she did. It might take a while, but she would understand.

"You found me rather quickly, didn't you?" she said tonelessly. She watched Hux's eyes before the realization dawned. "The whole thing was a set up."

"The ship you stole had a tracker in it," Hux said. "And I moved up my visit to the base without telling you. You really think it'd be that easy, escaping from the base? I wanted to see if you'd take the bait, or if you truly meant it when you said you'd be patient."

"I failed your test." She felt numb, the happiness of only moments ago ruined. "Back to Corellia, then?"

Hux frowned; she had succeeded in surprising him. She walked forward, and at first the Stormtroopers tensed at her approach. Hux gestured them down, however, and she breezed past him.

"Hold on," said Hux, and she paused. "Just like that? You're going to go back, without a fight?"

"The whole point of escaping was to find Thena." Her voice caught, betraying her. "I couldn't find her."

From the delicately raised eyebrow, Hux didn't believe her. "Couldn't find her."

Ana attempted a nonchalant shrug, and Hux let out another sigh.

"I'm not a monster, Ana," he admonished. "I'm not going to kill the girl. We require your obedience, and I am not a stupid man, I know that bringing any harm to her will only spur you to fight us more." He produced something from his pocket and held it aloft in front of her eyes. "I was going to attempt a more generous approach."

"Is that a credit chip?" Ana asked.

"With enough on it to get her to one of the comfortable mid—levels, set her up for a year or two," Hux said. "Or she could use it to go off—world, if she wanted. But, if you truly couldn't find her…"

Ana bit her lip harshly. The mid—levels didn't have anything like Ghrrik. She could get an apprenticeship up there, she'd always liked tinkering with Elek's speeder—she'd be breathing cleaner air, she wouldn't have to worry about food or credits anymore—she'd be out of the slums, she'd be safe, safer than she'd ever been—

"Go outside, Hux," said Ana quietly, holding out her hand for the credit chip. "I'll come out after. I won't fight. I won't run, ever again." She made eye contact, took a sharp breath, and added, "I promise."

Hux sized her up for a minute before deciding this time, perhaps, he would trust her. He handed over the credit chip and nodded to the troopers, and they left her in the hall.

When she was sure they were gone, she cleared her throat and crept slowly back to Thena's room.

"Thena," she called out, unable to keep the sadness from her voice. "Please."

Thena poked her head out from the room, but seemed to shrink when Ana got too close. _Stars_ , that hurt. She held out the credit chip.

"Take it," she said pleadingly. Thena flinched away from her outstretched hand. "Thena, how long have you known me. I came back for you. I just want to make sure you're safe. This is all so that you can be safe. Please take it. For me."

The Mirialan took the credit chip, and Ana released her held breath. Thena hesitated, and then darted past Ana to exit the hall. Ana knew she'd be able to sneak off without Hux or the troopers seeing her, it was what Thena did best. She paused once, however, to glance over her shoulder with tears in her eyes, and cross her ring finger over her pinkie.

Ana choked back a devastated sob, watching her go, and then marched with somber steps to meet Hux.

Hux, to his credit, pretended not to see the redness of her eyes, and simply asked, "Ready?"

 _I scared her_ , Ana thought.

 _Of course you did. The Ana she knew didn't kill people. But_ _you_ _kill people, don't you? She did the right thing. She did exactly what you taught her to do to survive._

She nodded once, trying not to tense up as soldiers lined themselves on either side of her, imprisoning her once again. "Ready."

* * *

A/N: Kylo will make an appearance again soon, don't worry! And even though he's not directly in this chapter, his influence is definitely present...Ana has definitely changed since the start of her little adventure. And was that the extent of Hux's traps? Or are there more Ana hasn't discovered yet?  
Stay tuned to find out! Thanks in advance for reviews/favorites/follows!


	23. Jealousy, Rage, and Resolve

A/N: I've been feeling particularly inspired lately since I just saw the new movie [there are no spoilers for it in this chapter, as Ana's story is a fabrication of my own design happening separate from the film], and it livened my love of Kylo. Hopefully the speedy way I'm grinding these chapters out helps them feel connected! This chapter is also much longer than most, but I didn't feel like it could be cut anywhere without it feeling like a forced reprieve. Please don't expect this chapter length permanently!

* * *

Ana didn't feel anything when Hux's ship landed on Corellia. She didn't feel anything when he dismissed the soldiers and led her personally into the base. She didn't even feel anything when he walked past the tiny cell of a room that had been hers.

"Have I earned better accomodations?" she asked numbly. "That's how this goes, isn't it? It's like a game for you lot. Reward the pet for her obedience."

Hux's nose scrunched in displeasure. "That's in poor taste, isn't it? I don't treat you like an animal."

"No," she relented. "You seem to take excellent care of Millicent."

"That's not very fair, Ana," he scolded. "If you had just stayed true to your word and been patient—"

"Then what? You'd have brought me to Thena? Set us up in luxury? Doesn't really seem to be the First Order's style. You want me to be patient, Hux, how many months of captivity until you're satisfied with my patience?"

"You have been treated exceedingly well given your... _position_ here," Hux snapped, pausing in front of a new door, a wider door. "I was under no obligation to be kind to you or provide you a haven on this base after Ren cast you off—in fact, it would have been much easier for me to force you to stay on the Finalizer as the First Order asset you are, instead of allowing you the comfort of escaping Ren's presence. A little loyalty wouldn't be remiss."

"You can't force my loyalty." She spat the word as though it poisoned her.

Hux's response was quick, biting, and hurt her more than it should have: "Ren seemed to be doing a pretty good job so I'm sure I can manage."

"Fuck you, Hux," she hissed.

"How nice of you to volunteer," he sneered, and his hands closed around her forearms.

Her skin sparked at his touch. " _What?_ "

"Don't play coy with me, Ana," he said, voice thick and rumbling. "You can't be blind to it. You've been flirting with me all these weeks in between sulking about Ren. You've opened up to me, trusted me with secrets Ren took from you whereas I let you take your time. You called me, all those lonely nights on this base, just to talk. What do you call that?"

His eyes were on her lips and she was so _monstrously_ uncomfortable. It hadn't meant anything, she reasoned. She'd needed the companionship, the routine, the familiarity. Why did he have to ruin it by being such a... _man_?

 _Maybe he's just doing this to mess with Kylo again,_ she thought. _Kylo would be furious if he found out—_

Kylo.

Who gave a damn about him anyway? He'd thrown her out. After all that garbage about how she was special, all that effort breaking her down and training her and stealing her away from the life she'd had, he had _thrown her away._ Hux had come after her. Three times now, if she was counting correctly.

 _Because I'm a First Order asset. He said it himself._

The reason nagged at her mind, but she pushed it away.

"Let go of me," she said, voice low.

She fully expected him to ignore her and do as he pleased—it seemed men of the First Order had a penchant for that—but to her disbelief, he released her.

"This is your room," he said. "You'll find it more comfortable than your last. Clothes and books have been provided for you. Get changed—in an hour you will accompany me to the ceremony for the newest group of pilots."

"Ceremony?"

"It's a training and construction base, Ana. And as a general, I am required to attend."

"And I am required to attend why?"

"Because I still don't trust you," he said, scowling. "As a result, you'll be at my side until I am satisfied you can be left to your own devices."

Her instinct was to growl, but instead she bit harshly on the inside of her cheek and said nothing. He pressed on the pad next to the door and waved his arm to usher her inside.

"An hour," he reminded her, and shut the door.

She walked to the dresser first; it was full of simple things, soft grey shirts, paneled black pants. No dresses, thank the stars, she wouldn't have been able to stomach another dress, though she was so _sick_ of black and grey. One of the drawers, however, stunned her when she opened it. There were colors, more colors than she expected—reds and purples and blues, shirts with long sleeves and delicate embroidery, long skirts that brushed the grated floor when she held them up against her frame.

She went with one of the skirts in a rich, deep blue, with a matching long-sleeve counterpart that covered the scarring on her shoulder. After dressing, the soft fabric swishing around her legs, she sat down on the bed and swallowed her tears. There was no point in crying anymore. Thena would be taken care of, but she was purposeless now. And she didn't blame Thena, not really. She wouldn't recognize herself either.

When Thena got older, she'd understand, Ana reassured herself, as if that could lessen the pain she felt remembering Thena's back as she ran away.

Kylo had ruined her. That much was clear. He had twisted her and changed her so much that even Thena hadn't wanted anything to do with her. He had turned her into exactly what he wanted, conditioned her, and now what? What would she do now? Hux had called her an asset, but their "Supreme Leader" had made it clear he didn't mind if she lived or died, so what was her purpose here, truly? Would Hux assign her to Stormtrooper missions? Would she become some kind of personal bodyguard for Hux, the way she was Kylo's self-proclaimed "attendant?" She sighed, ran her fingers through her hair. It was so long now, in desperate need of a cut. When was the last time she glanced at herself in a mirror?

She felt aimless, and she despised it. Why should she feel so wandering without Kylo?

His face appeared before her, clear and solid as if he were standing right in front of her. He wasn't wearing the mask, she _hated_ that mask, and he was still cruelly, stunningly handsome.

"What have you done to me?" she whispered, her eyes closing.

There was a gentle brush of fingers on her chin, and her eyes fluttered open again in surprise. He was really here, he was really touching her, _how was that possible_ —

"Where are you, nova?" His voice was firm, deep, and his gaze pierced her. "Tell me where you are, and I will come to you."

There was a contained anger in his touch, and she felt the smallest twinge of fear pass through her. "You're not really here."

The illusion broke like brittle glass when there was a knock at the door; once again, she was alone in her room, only now she was shaken. He was angry with her, that much was certain, but he was looking for her again. He had discarded her and now he wanted her? She shook her head slowly, feeling lightheaded as she stood to answer the door, and outside of her room stood Hux. She blinked away her confusion, trying hard not to dwell on it— _he's like a child, he doesn't know what he wants, he'll throw you out again the very next time you make him mad_ —and Hux extended his arm.

"Shall we?" he asked.

Her resolve hardened. She didn't need Kylo to give her a purpose, just like she hadn't needed her grandmother to give her one, just like she hadn't needed Ghrrik to give her one. She didn't need Hux to tell her what she should become next. She didn't need _anyone_. For once the choice was hers; if she rejected all of their forced positions, all of the boxes they were trying to shove her into, what could she be?

 _Anything._

* * *

The ceremony was splendidly boring. Ana could barely keep herself upright and still through the course of it, even when Hux was called on to give a speech to the new pilots. She wondered if there were always such a fanfare surrounding a fresh batch of soldiers or if this were a unique occurrence. From the expression on Hux's pinched face, she imagined that if it did happen frequently, he had almost always found a way to skip such events in the past. He finished his speech—short and generic, she thought—to hurried applause, and the audience and new pilots were dismissed to their posts.

"Hux," she said when he approached her again. "Was Kylo aware of where you'd gone when you left the Finalizer?"

Hux's brows narrowed. "Missing the buffoon again, are we?"

 _Not quite_. "That's not exactly why I'm asking."

"He's aware I'd be leaving the Finalizer on official business," he said. He started a brisk pace and then paused, inclining his head as an explanation that she was meant to join him. She fell into step beside the general and he continued. "He also assumes I know where you've gone, though he still hasn't confronted me for information, and I don't imagine he will. The Supreme Leader seemed...pleased with the way he dismissed you, so he'll hesitate to do anything that could land him in Leader Snoke's poor opinion. Now, why are you asking?"

 _He appeared to me for the first time in the weeks since he nearly killed me and threw me away._ "Curious, that's all."

"Hm." Hux clucked his tongue. "If you insist. Come now, I'm needed in the construction hangar."

She breezed past him, walking with sure, confident steps, and he observed her in calm surprise. When she turned a corner in the hall, however, he sped his steps to catch up with her and said, "The hangar is the other way."

"Then you should go that way." She continued on. "I'm going to blow off some steam."

He wasn't shocked by her lip. "Have you forgotten that you are to accompany me—"

"I don't know what you think I am, Hux," she said, the words falling confidently from her mouth. "But I don't believe that I am a resource for the First Order as a trophy. I am going to the training room. Snoke and Kylo wanted a weapon, and a weapon they'll get."

It seemed Ana had succeeded in stunning Hux into silence, a moment so bizarre that she actually laughed.

"You're embracing it now?" Hux called after her. "You'll voluntarily assist the First Order's mission?"

 _Side effect_ , she thought. _I'm going to make it so that no one can overpower me ever again. No one can decide who I am ever again. I'll become so strong that not even Snoke will be able to control me._

Hux was still suspicious of her, that much was clear when he posted Stormtroopers outside of the training room. She had stripped herself of the shirt, leaving herself in her breast band, and had tied the skirt high on her thigh for ease of movement as she moved. For the first time in several years, she unlocked her own memories to access her grandmother's training. The memories of torture—near-drowning, the rice that cut into her knees after hours of kneeling, the verbal reprimands that she _still wasn't focusing enough_ —made her sweat but she pushed through them with renewed determination. She ran through her stances, punched and kicked and struck a training dummy until her knuckles bled, and when she was done, chest heaving with each breath, she collapsed to her knees, closed her eyes, and began for the first time in a long time to truly meditate.

Her mind was clear. She could feel the subtle energy, the ebb and flow that she now recognized as the Force—she remembered when she was younger, she had dreamed of being able to harness it and manipulate it the way Jedi of legend had done instead of just feeling it. But that wasn't in the stars. She could do nothing but notice it was there, and that was with heavy meditation. She wasn't a Force user, and she had accepted the failure of that dream long ago.

Especially after what happened to her father.

That thought snapped her out of her meditation. She rubbed her eyes, pressing hard, and took another deep breath. She couldn't focus, she realized, until she allowed herself to really address him. She had never truly accepted what happened to him, and with a shaky inhale, she knew that had to change.

 _Later_ , she relented, her body and mind exhausted. She rested her back against the cool metal wall of the training room for a short nap.

* * *

Her grandmother's favorite story had been about Arden Lyn. She led the Legions of Lettow, a breakaway sect of the Jedi Order, after her lover was killed. She was strong and she was powerful, the epitome of everything Ana was supposed to be. Her grandmother loved to tell her how she had mastered meditation, mastered the Force to where she was able to put herself into a deep Force trance. She had defeated the Jedi Master Awdrysta Pina and survived her injuries by going into such a trance, sleeping for twenty-five thousand years.

"I met her," Ana's grandmother said, beaming with pride. "She taught me herself, before Palpatine betrayed her. You should be more grateful, Anavexi, more receptive. Her techniques are a gift."

Something had always rung false about her grandmother's stories, facts corrupted by idolization, but Ana had never been able to dig up any historical account of Arden Lyn at the time, and she had never tried since.

It was Arden Lyn who came to her in her dreams now, interrupting a vivid nightmare of blood on her hands and Thena's clouded, vacant eyes staring up at her. She recognized the woman as being exactly how her grandmother had described: dark hair, a prosthetic right arm, a dangerous and wild sort of look in her eyes. Fierce, her grandmother had said.

Arden Lyn laughed at her, cruel and harsh. "You're all that's left of Cora," she said. "Pathetic. My student didn't push you to reach your full potential." She tilted Ana's chin, turned her face like a puppet. "So much raw energy in you. Why have you rejected it so long?"

Ana conjured the image of Thena, of Elek, and Arden laughed again.

"Weakness," she admonished. "We could be so much stronger than any Jedi, any Sith. We are more than they are. We know the Force deeper than they do."

 _Snoke, his ability to exert the Force over her from a hologram—_

"You could have him on his knees," Arden said. "My techniques could have the universe at your fingertips. All you have to do…" Arden held out a small grey prism. "...is ask."

Ana reached out for the grey stone, her fingers closing around it, and it was so cold, so dark—It was consuming her, smothering her, but it was also _accepting_ her—

She awoke with a start, and Arden and the strange stone were gone. She was left with a whispering voice telling her something she knew was important, but when she tried to focus on the sound it skittered away.

* * *

"You've been quiet lately." Hux was pacing around a large strategy table, a map of the stars outlined and punctuated with little figures to represent First Order starships and Resistance bases. Ana had come in specifically to find him, hoping perhaps she could talk him into sparring—she was going a bit stir-crazy with her self-induced isolation, and she needed to keep her skills sharp if she expected to improve—and he seemed rather bitter with her.

"I needed to reconcile a few things," she said. A smirk tugged at her lips. "Have you been lonely, Hux?"

His attention snapped to her and he scowled darkly. "Don't get ahead of yourself, girl."

She looked down at the table, at the obvious spaces where pieces had been removed. "What's the new strategy?" She recognized the outline of a First Order starship model that wasn't there anymore. "Did they take down a ship of yours?"

"A Dreadnought." Hux's lips were pursed and then evened out. "They took heavy casualties though. They will suffer greatly for such a small victory. We are taking out their allies one by one—"

A sharp pain spread across her temple and a demanding voice speared through her head: _My patience is running thin, nova, tell me where you are_.

She cut the voice off like closing a blast door, slamming him out with finality. _I will not be pulled to and fro because he can't decide what he wants._

"Ana?"

Ana shook the last vestiges of his voice from her mind. "Sorry, Hux. Headache."

"I was asking if you wanted to stretch your legs." He raised an eyebrow. "You've been rather intense in your...training, perhaps you'd like a partner."

She felt a smile pull at her lips. "Do you think you can handle it?"

"A proper soldier is taught hand-to-hand combat," he said, looking mildly insulted. "Just because I haven't been on the front lines recently—"

"Reel it in, princess," Ana interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Let's go."

* * *

A small part of her couldn't help comparing him to Kylo. He had removed his shirt for their spar, and he wasn't as broad as Kylo, had more freckles than Kylo, and he wasn't as animalistic in his movements. She gave herself only a second to admire his physique and then steeled herself. This wasn't foreplay. It was a fight.

He moved slower than Kylo, so their first round was over almost stunningly quickly. She had him pinned to the floor mat, and he huffed with a sort of embarrassed indignance. They reset, and he firmed his stance a bit.

"Ren taught you well," he grudgingly admitted.

 _It wasn't Ren._

This time he was a little quicker, tried first with a few light swings that she ducked away from without much effort. Her fist flashed out, he blocked it with a raised forearm and grabbed her upper arm, using the leverage to pull her in close and attempt a flip. She countered by planting her feet and used his own weight against him. He landed on top of her, her leg twisted around his arm, and he let out a short, stunned laugh. She was exhilarated, thoroughly enjoying herself, her nerves alive and thrumming with adrenaline, and then—

 _He's not worthy of you, nova, now get his filthy touch off of you_ _this instant_.

She gasped at Kylo's voice in her head, detangling herself from Hux, and their session was interrupted by a Stormtrooper stepping through the door and announcing a Resistance outpost had been located on Garel.

"Lieutenant Mitaka sent the message directly from the Finalizer, sir," said the trooper, and Hux stood, brushing himself off exaggeratedly.

He thanked the soldier, and Ana sprung to her feet. "Are you going? To Garel?"

"What? Of course I'm going, we must wipe out the Resistance wherever they spread—"

"I'm going with you."

Hux's eyes narrowed. "So eager to get off the base again. Dare I ask why."

"Don't be so suspicious," she chided him. "I promised I wouldn't run again, didn't I?"

"Forgive me for not being so trusting. Although I suppose I do have some security. " He straightened his back, smoothed his hair. "That credit chip you delivered to the girl, the one I provided? If you should ever run off again, she will find it quite empty."

Ana's jaw clicked. _This is on my terms. I won't let him define the terms anymore._ "I won't run regardless. Your blackmail is unnecessary."

"And yet, if you don't mind, I think I'll continue to blackmail you all the same."

 _I mind very much._

* * *

On board Hux's personal shuttle, Ana stared out the window at the stars beyond. They were traveling to Garel in small transport ships. The Finalizer, according to Hux, would meet them there. This information put tension in her shoulders, a fact Hux noted with rolled eyes and a dry scoff.

"Do you know why I'm insisting you forget about him?" he asked.

"Because you want to fuck me yourself and see what all the fuss is about?" she deadpanned.

She noticed with a wry smile that he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes again.

"Because of what the Supreme Leader said. He was willing to kill you for the sake of Ren's training. I see the potential we could lose if Ren were to do something rash and Snoke killed you. If you lay low and stay away from Ren until after the training is complete, your survival is secured."

She said nothing for a moment. "Is that so."

Hux didn't respond, perhaps confused by her answer, but she caught him glancing at her several times for the remainder of the voyage. It grated on her nerves, his endless examinations, so she pretended to doze in her chair if only to avoid his searching, cold eyes.

They dropped out of hyperspace to find that the battle had already begun without them, Hux's pilot making a sharp pull to avoid space debris.

"Damn," said Hux as the ship righted. "Ren must have gotten here before us. This reeks of his unsophisticated strategy."

She ignored the way her skin went clammy at the mention of the man— _It's absolutely ridiculous that he affects me like this, when did I become so pathetic_ —and Hux barked orders for the ground troops to push through, ignoring the combat happening above the atmosphere with Resistance ships and First Order TIE fighters. They landed on the planet's surface to a hail of blaster fire, and as Hux's shuttle doors opened with a hiss, he glanced at Ana and said, "Time for your particular skill set, don't you think?"

 _Alright, Ana. Incapacitate, don't kill._

She repeated the line like a mantra in her own head as she disembarked onto the mountainous landscape of Garel. If she scaled back her strength, dialed it down, she could pull this off without Hux ever knowing that she wasn't killing them. This was on her terms, she reminded herself. She could do this her way.

 _Incapacitate, don't kill._

They must not train their recruits very well. Few of them had decent aim with a blaster, most of the shots going wild as she ducked away from them, staying crouched in the valleys while the shots harmlessly battered the rock and sandstone around her. She took the first one down with the butt of his own blaster, popping up in front of his nose and grabbing his weapon by the barrel, giving it a healthy shove into his own face. He crumpled like an empty sack, and the next man was dispatched from a well-placed blaster shot to the shoulder. It went much the same as that; most of them were no contest for her speed and focus, though in close combat they got a little more feisty. She was skirting around the edges of the main battlefield where Stormtroopers were pushing in toward the base, and she was picking off the stragglers on the fringe to thin their numbers.

She didn't much care if the First Order won, that wasn't what mattered. The practice was what mattered, the challenge of it and the tests of her control. She felt free. She felt powerful. Something had clicked inside her and she knew she should be frightened of it, but why? What did she have to lose anymore, when there was so much more to be gained?

She flipped and shattered the armor of a trooper that got in her way at one point, the man groaning in pain from the impact before a Resistance blaster took him down for good. Ana shrugged it off, pushing guilt and hesitation away—she couldn't afford distractions even when a Resistance soldier stabbed her in the thigh with a vibroblade. Him, she killed, pulling his knife from the meat of her thigh with a broken, pained cry as her mechanical shoulder whined in protest. While she focused on her breathing to block out the pain, her blood coloring the grey pants she wore, she caught sight of something.

She'd recognize that lumbering stance anywhere.

Ren stood out along the mountainside in his all-black attire, while Ana almost missed the small slip of a girl he was fighting. If not for the blue glow of a lightsaber, the girl and her light clothing would have blended straight away into the sandstone. Must have been the desert girl. The Force-user he was obsessed with. The one who made him feel the Light.

Ana's mood grew darker, and the next figure who lunged for her met with a crushed larynx—she stepped over him as he choked and gagged, bothered by the level of her own anger. Kylo wasn't wearing his mask, and as she got closer, Ana's rage only grew when she could hear the girl speaking to him, imploring him—calling him _Ben_.

Ana picked up a Z6 baton from the ground next to a fallen trooper, checking to make sure its electric core still buzzed to life. Kylo was starting to lose ground; the girl was throwing him off kilter, unbalancing him with what she was saying, though it was clear from her physical movements that she lacked experience and finesse.

"So affected," Ana muttered, having nearly reached them, "by such a little _chit_."

He was swinging his lightsaber wildly now, the force of his attacks strengthened but slowed, and a push back from the girl caused him to stumble, leaving an opening for her to—

Ana locked the mechanism in her shoulder to hold firm as she blocked the girl's downward swing with the Z6 baton. The baton sparked, its conductor vanes designed to dispel the plasma blade of the girl's saber, and Ana relished in the girl's stunned expression as she realized her attack had failed.

The girl pushed down harder as if convinced the saber could still cut through if she applied brute force, but Ana wasn't budging.

 _Keep the scavenger off my back, Ana,_ she thought to herself, mocking Kylo's voice in her own head. She shoved back and it was the girl's turn to stumble. _You may yet be useful to me, Ana._ She swept her leg, nearly tripping the desert girl, who was being forced back with each strike Ana lobbed. _Bow at my feet and kiss my boots, Ana—well you can bend over, Ren, and kiss my_ —The girl blocked Ana's attempted slash toward her right side, electricity crackling, and the lightsaber singed her hair. Ana's shoulder stalled and sputtered, the mechanisms creaking from strain, and with a cry the strength left her arm and the desert girl's lightsaber bit into her skin. Ana screamed, but clenched her jaw and brought the baton back up with all her strength and batted the lightsaber away. She ignored, as best she could, the smell of burnt flesh and blood. The girl was just staring at her now, confused and searching, and her eyes flicked over Ana's shoulder to Kylo and Ana frightened herself when the thought sprung forth, quick and easy, that the girl ought to die.

She was just so... _So_...

 _Don't look at him, look at me. I'm the one fighting you now,_ _stop looking at him_ _._

The First Order was nearly through picking off the last of the Resistance, and dimly Ana heard the pulsing whirr of a ship's engine. A look of understanding dawned on the girl's face.

"This isn't over, Ben," she called, and then she turned and bolted as a messy-looking junk ship came into view.

Kylo was barking orders at nearby troopers, but Ana was going after her. The girl was quick, but Ana could still reach her before she made it to the ship if she pushed herself.

"Nova," came the growl from behind her. "Leave it."

" _Excuse me_?" she said. He was watching the girl go with a strange expression and Ana wanted to throw up. "Have you _lost your mind_?"

"Have _you_?" he countered. "You think yourself a vicious killer now? You presume to fight my battles for me?"

"Just keeping the scavenger off your back, sir," she said, tone venomous. "Unless that's exactly where you'd rather she be."

Ren's eyes narrowed and she felt triumphant, but before she could respond a Stormtrooper approached and gave a quick salute. Ana thought he was there for Ren, but to her surprise the soldier addressed her directly and said, "The Resistance scum are retreating. The general needs you back on the ship so that we may pursue."

Ana nodded once, and the soldier left. She dropped the Z6 with a sigh, fury spent for the moment, but Ren's cold voice behind her gave her pause.

"You're not going anywhere," he said with a growl.

"Yes, I am. Don't want to keep Hux waiting." She kept her back turned to him, knowing her resolve was stronger if she didn't look at him.

"Have you been with him the whole time?" Kylo demanded.

She hesitated, knowing which answer would push his buttons, and his voice seemed to lower another octave if that was even possible.

"You've been shutting me out."

 _You threw me away._ She wanted to scream at him, scratch him, draw blood until he understood just how sadistic and utterly unfair he was being.

"You don't get to be upset by that," she said instead, keeping her voice even. "You have no right."

"I have every right. You belong to me."

She was having the most dreadful sense of deja vu, only last time he'd spoken those words he had followed up with a kiss so possessing she had almost believed him. This time...

"You forfeited that 'right,'" she said, and once more she was walking away from him. Despite his quiet seething and what she was sure was his injured ego, he didn't stop her. When she boarded Hux's shuttle, she turned around and could see Kylo still staring after her. And she took great pleasure in closing the shuttle doors on his stupid, handsome face.

* * *

A/N: Have you ever had those moments where characters take on a life of their own? Ana's development has been evolving almost separate from me, which is fascinating, and I'm really enjoying the dark path she's turning down now. What do you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thank you in advance.


	24. Control

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone!

Mild mature content in this chapter. Tried to keep the descriptions tasteful. Ana is definitely taking control of her life and her power! I'm glad you're all enjoying the ride, hopefully this chapter satisfies while I get the next bit of her story ironed out!

* * *

Ana was grinning through the pain, her clothes in tatters and covered in blood. She was so absorbed in her victory that it barely registered to her until Hux swore grandly.

"Have you no survival instinct at all?" he said angrily, hands reaching for her but not knowing where was safe to touch.

That, to her, was insanely funny, and he looked at her with a horrified expression. "She's delirious," he muttered. "Must be worse than it looks." He sat her down as the ship lifted away from Garel. He peeled away her clothing, taking stock of the stab wound on her thigh and the lightsaber burn on her arm that had seared through some of her machinery. "This will need to be fixed."

"I'm not delirious, Hux."

He kneeled in front of her, pressed and prodded at the wound on her thigh, still leaking blood, and she hissed at the contact. He ripped the fabric of her pants to get better access to the injury, blood still weeping from it, and he pressed the scraps against it to stem the flow.

"You'll be fine until we get back to the ship," he said. "The _Finalizer_ is closer, we'll get you patched up before we head back to the base."

What about pursuing the Resistance?

Hux read her face. "There are fighters taking care of that as we speak. Hold still."

Ana's rage at Kylo had faded to a strange giddiness, and she found herself tempted to giggle as she watched the general fussing over her leg. Maybe she _was_ delirious.

He looked up at her, frowning, and she curled her arms around her sides. "Bet this wasn't what you had in mind when you figured you'd get my pants off." She pinched her side to keep her smile from breaking, waggling her eyebrows.

Something flashed across Hux's face, and then he had surged up from his knees and their mouths collided. His kiss was short and intense and acting on pure instinct, she shoved him back. He looked bothered by the rejection for only a moment, and then the expression vanished. He grabbed her hand, pressing it to the bundle of fabric he still had against her wound.

"Keep pressure on it," he said, voice gruff. He stood and left her then, directing the pilot of his shuttle as her lips tingled.

The kiss only served to remind her that the things Kylo had done, the way he'd made her feel, wasn't normal. Hux had stopped when she'd pushed him. Kylo would have—

She pressed down hard on her thigh, the pain striking his face from her mind. _Kylo, Kylo, Kylo,_ she thought, disgusted with herself. _Can't stop thinking about him for five fucking minutes._ But there was a small, nagging voice in her head that said Hux wasn't genuine, that he was up to something, that if she trusted him he'd rip it all out from under her just like—

While she was absorbed in her own thoughts, the shuttle pulled into the docking bay of the _Finalizer._ Hux appeared at her side again, his body heat a strange comfort.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

"Of course I can walk," she huffed, standing on shaky legs. "Honestly, it's not even that big of a deal—"

He took her by the elbow, and only then did she realize she had been gently swaying. He gave her a scolding look and led her off the ship and to the medbay.

Being back on the starship was stressful, her muscles taut and primed for a fight if she ran into Kylo. Surprisingly, he seemed to have made himself scarce. They reached the medbay without any incident, and the droids set to work on her injuries.

"I have a debriefing," said Hux, and then he hesitated in the doorway. He had never hesitated before. Was he...worried about her?

"Go on," she said, sticking her tongue out. "I can't run with my leg like this."

A cloud passed over his face, as if she had misunderstood him, and he shook his head at her. "Childish," he said, and then he left.

She settled against the cot while she was worked on, brow furrowing when it was time for the mechanics to be repaired. If her arm hadn't been mostly machine, she could imagine the true damage the girl's lightsaber would have done to her flesh. Ana closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind.

She was on a new planet, surrounded by dense forest of bambwood and kingwood trees. The leaves overhead were thick, covering nearly all the sunlight from reaching the forest floor.

"Welcome to Ossus," said a female voice, and as Ana spun around she caught sight of Arden Lyn standing near one of the tall, straight trunks of a kingwood. "Or, the Ossus that was."

"Ossus?"

"An ancient Jedi stronghold." Arden stepped away from the tree, over curling roots and rocks, and circled Ana. "It doesn't look much like this anymore."

"Why are we here?"

Arden shrugged, one shoulder flesh and one mechanical. "I tried to take us to Kashi, but you pulled away."

"What's on Kashi?"

"Nothing, anymore," Arden said vaguely. Her gold eyes grew unfocused for a second and then she shook herself out of it. "You haven't found it yet, have you? It should have called to you by now."

The woman turned away, walking through the trees, and Ana chased after her. "What are you talking about?"

"Why did you go to Ossus? I searched Ossus already."

Ana thought she would catch the woman on the other side of a tree, only to find that somehow Arden was behind her, walking east instead of south now, and Ana cursed under her breath.

"Maybe I was mistaken," the woman muttered.

"Wait!"

Arden disappeared, and Ana groaned in frustration. What was going on? There was a sound behind her, a lightsaber igniting, and Ana sighed.

"Kylo, I don't have time for—" She turned and swallowed her words. It wasn't Kylo Ren, it wasn't his vented, unstable lightsaber positioned calmly at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. It was a green lightsaber, and the man holding it was hooded but human. She couldn't see his face, didn't recognize him, but _knew him._

"We need a pilot," the man said. "You will take us where we need to go, you will ask no questions, and you will forget we were ever here."

She recognized the tone, recognized the way he spoke and the way energy in the air seemed to shift. Her lips moved on their own. "I will take you where you need to go. I will ask no questions, and I will forget you were ever here."

"Very good."

But it wasn't very good, nothing was good, because that hadn't been her voice that had come from her mouth, that had been— _Father_.

This was the man who had caused her father's fragile mind to splinter, who had toyed with him using the Force and manipulated him to his own ends. Her grandmother had said torture—it hadn't been anything so purposeful as torture. The Force-user had simply plucked a few strings loose, created a gap, in the mind of a grieving widow who was already too weak from drinking and depression to handle it. It was so much worse than torture; it was simple indifference. The man had assumed to be doing no damage, causing no ripples. He hadn't cared about the after-effects.

Green saber.

The man had been a Jedi.

Sliced wrists and blood, so much blood. The Jedi was gone now and her father was before her instead, pale and haunting in the shadows of the trees, his blood dripping down his palms to the mulched, muddy ground. She dropped to her knees, reaching to slow the bleeding, but her fingers sunk into his ruined flesh as if there were nothing to knit together anymore.

"Daddy." The voice the fell from her this time was younger, the voice of her childhood. "Daddy, why did you do this?"

"Aren't you a sweet little girl?" He sounded exhausted, his words slurring. "Don't cry, sweetheart. Where are your parents?"

"Daddy, _Daddy_ —"

Her father vanished, and so did the forest. She was in a ruin now, the ruin of a building long and rhombus-shaped. The ceiling had fallen in, sunlight streaming onto rubble and ruined books, and at the end of the building was a pedestal of some kind. Just before the pedestal lay a body, decayed now, splayed out as if it were reaching for something, and in its outstretched, skeletal hand, was a small grey prism.

The same prism Arden had offered in her other vision.

Ana's searching fingers found it, touched its cool surface, and felt wind rush around her ears. The whispering from before started again, louder, but she couldn't extract anything intelligible from them. She chased after them into darkness, but the voices were pulling away from her, fading like wisps the harder she tried to focus on them.

She awoke with a start to find she was still in the medbay of the Finalizer, still on the simple cot. She caught her breath, hand over her wildly-beating heart, and—

"So the general has been kind to you, has he?"

Ana let her head sink back against the pillows with a huff. Of course he'd be here already, of course she'd have to deal with him instantly upon waking instead of having a moment's peace—

"You smell of him," Kylo said, teeth bared like a rabid dog. "Tell me, have you let him fuck you yet?"

She gave him a cheeky smile, feeling bold, and said, "Aren't you going to try snooping through his mind? Or are you worried what your master would say?"

Kylo's jaw set, his lips a hard line pressed so tight together they were nearly white. "That's not an answer," he ground out.

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell." Just to add a bit more insult to injury, she threw in a wink. Probably not the smartest idea, knowing his temper, but the look on his face was _delicious_. It was almost worth it even when he closed the Force around her throat. His hand was shaking as he blocked her airway, advancing on her from where he stood in the corner of the room.

"Do yourself a favor, stupid girl, and don't fool yourself into thinking he cares for you. He's only interested in you so long as he thinks it will bother me."

Rage spiked in her hard and fast and she struggled against the Force hold, her voice pushed out, "Not everything revolves around _you_."

"Of course it does," he said, his hold letting up a fraction. She swallowed air like a gaping fish, wishing she could be a little more elegant about it. "I made you relevant to him. Without me, you're not even a blip on his radar."

" _Liar_ ," she hissed, and watched his confidence falter. "He hid me from you when you had your last tantrum, and that drives you _crazy_."

"So the officious little rodent has charmed you, has he?" He lifted her into a sitting position without touching her, his eyes intense, but the pressure around her neck had faded to simply an unpleasant reminder. His effort, his focus, wasn't in the Force. "Tell me where he touched you and I'll rip his arms off—"

"So," Ana mocked, "the skinny sand brat has charmed you, has she?"

For half a second he had the decency to look confused. "Rey?"

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't for him to say the scavenger's name—and certainly not with that tone of voice. She started to laugh to cover her discomfort, and he frowned at her.

"Rich," she muttered. "Fucking rich. I ask you about Ben and I'm threatened and chucked off—not to mention I only asked about it because Snoke put the idea in my head after an hour of _torture_ —but _she_ calls you Ben directly, multiple times, and she gets googly eyes and a _name_."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Kylo said. His brows furrowed, as if her words weren't quite sinking in and he muttered, quietly, rhetorically, "He tortured you?"

"Tell me, Kylo, why come looking for me again? You want things when they don't want you. It's why you're here now, because I didn't beg you to keep me, because Hux kept me away from you. It's why you pine after that Jedi bitch—"

His hand closed over her chin, yanking her up to meet his gaze. "Don't presume to understand me, nova."

"How could I not, when you're so fucking _simple_?"

He kissed her, mouth pliant and hot against hers. She shook her head, prying his fingers from her face, and tried to twist away.

"Think fucking me will rid you of her?" she demanded. "I'm not a toy, Ren—"

"But you are still mine," he said with a dark, sultry voice, and he kissed her again.

She could see how this was going to go as clearly as she had seen anything—he would wear her down with kisses, use her and leave her and she'd let him. He was so confident in it, too, and that was positively _maddening_. She wondered briefly how long after he was through before the scavenger entered his thoughts again. Used and discarded by him over and over and—

Not this time.

He tried to press her down into the bed and she grabbed his wrist hard, yanking it from her body with force he wasn't expecting, and before he could overpower her she said, "If you want to do this, it will be my way."

She could see the wheels turning in his head. Such a large part of him wanted to disregard her, throw her down on the cot and remain the one in control; but a smaller, more curious part was considering her. There was a part of him that wanted to know what she would do, if given just the slightest leeway. She watched the war raging in his mind and then he grinned (wolfishly) and leaned back from her.

"Your way?" he asked, trying to hide his intrigue. "What exactly is your way?"

She utilized her strength and his lowered guard and flipped them, pushing his back firmly onto the cot with her legs straddling his hips.

"Don't move," she said, knowing he wouldn't listen to her.

True to his defiant character, his hands slid up her thighs to her hips. The thin medical gown she wore did nothing to shield her from his heat. She grabbed his wrists and pinned them over his head, his eyes flashing something dangerously close to amusement.

"I said," she growled, "don't move."

He could break free easily, ruining her plan, and she wondered if he would still look so interested if she tied him down...

Ana decided to risk it, reaching for the small, sterilized silver table beside her cot. He watched her movements with fascination.

"What idea do you have lobbying inside that little head of yours?" he asked lowly.

Nothing would restrain him for long if he didn't want to be restrained. She went with a roll of fabric bandages, surprised that the First Order still employed such archaic methods when they had such easy access to bacta. As she unrolled the bandages and wrapped them around his wrists, he started to laugh.

"So you want some control, do you?" he said. "Alright, nova, I'll indulge."

The bravado was partially false, she recognized, as he tensed when she secured his hands tightly to the metal bars of the cot. Her perception heightened, his face a forced mask of calm through his curiosity, she could see that part of him was happy with her apparent surrender to his battering advances. That's why he was so willing to "indulge" her.

She tugged at his restraints, confident in them for the moment. They were probably too tight, but if they caused him any pain he didn't seem to mind. He was still watching her like she was amusing him, like she was a child playing, and it angered her anew.

This time she would be the one to use him.

He wasn't fighting the position—in fact, the distinctly-shaped thing pressed against her center was nothing if not proof that he was more fond of their current layout than he was likely to admit. She freed him from his black pants, ignoring the way his eyelids fluttered at her soft touch, and lowered herself to him.

She pretended not to notice the way her heart thudded when he groaned, low and wanting. This wasn't about his pleasure. As she moved, searching for a motion and a speed that would satisfy her, he jerked his hands up in their restraints and the fabric nearly tore.

"No." She stilled entirely, pinning him with her glare. "If you rip those, I'll stop."

There was a challenge in his eyes. If she stopped because he broke free, what would stop him from continuing?

"You want me willing, don't you?" She rolled her hips and the sound he made was nothing short of a needy whine. "It's better for you if I'm willing. If you don't play by my rules, then you can forget about having an active participant."

She almost expected his defiance, his rejection of her terms, and was again mildly surprised when he went almost slack against the cot. Not to be completely disarmed, however, he thrust his hips upwards only once and growled, "Then move, Ana, for fuck's sake."

She did, settling into a rhythm that had her on the fast track to unraveling, like a yarn ball whose string was plucked loose. She tumbled into an abyss, feeling free and in control and just divine.

Ana caught her breath, the man below her panting and unfinished. He was staring at her like he had just discovered her, like there was something new about her he'd only now noticed. She felt like laughing at the confusion that spread across his face when she lifted herself from him and stood up from the cot with wobbly legs.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, deep and dangerous.

"I don't think that really concerns you." She fixed her hair, running her fingers through it. She was beyond pleased that her voice and breathing were nearly back to normal; in a few seconds, it would be like nothing ever happened.

"This is a dangerous game you're playing, nova," he said. "Get back here."

"I'm sure you can take care of yourself, Kylo." Here, she flashed him a smile. "You're very capable, after all."

He pushed up from the cot, nearly freeing his arms, but it would take another hefty exertion of power to do so and she was almost the hall, and she was doubtful he'd chase her down with such an embarrassing centerpiece on his person.

She was nearly dressed by this point, bending to lace her boots. "Ought to be going before Hux sends a search party for me." As one last parting shot, the man seething in anger, she leaned close and added, "Next time I see the little desert bitch, I think I'll try my hand at killing her."

She lifted her fist in a mock salute and left the room. He shouted, hoarse and violent, after her, and it was only seconds after she passed through the doorway that she heard the shredding of the fabric restraints and a loud metallic banging—presumably the echo of Kylo throwing the steel table. She felt clever, _strong_ , having beaten the man at his own game, having succeeded for once at holding him on the edge of a string and keeping him dangling and fuck if that wasn't the best feeling—

 _Taste of your own medicine, you bastard._

She spotted a shiny helmet and swishing red and black cape, and smirked. "Phasma, ol' buddy, ol' pal—"

"General Hux sent me to fetch you if you were through being patched up in the medbay," said Phasma, all business. Ana had half a mind to pout at her formal tone. "Are you alright? He said you were injured on Garel."

"I'm fine, no big deal." Ana rolled her shoulders. "Where is he?"

She followed Phasma down the hall, but her steps slowed when she realized they were headed for the hangar. "He said he was in a meeting, why are we going to the shuttles?"

Phasma hesitated. "He is in a meeting, on our starship _Supremacy_. I'll take you to join him. It has been decided that you'll have the privilege of an audience with the Supreme Leader. In person."

Ana stopped. "Oh no. No, _no_ , no." She shook her head, laughing dryly. "No, I've had enough of your Supreme Leader, I've done what he said, he can leave me well enough alone." She turned around. "I'm not going to let you ship me off to a torture-den—"

Stormtroopers blocked her way, blasters in full view, and Ana groaned aloud.

"Phasma, _please_ ," she said.

"I'm sorry," Phasma responded, her posture stiff and uncomfortable. She didn't seem to like the idea either. "It's out of our control."

"For the most powerful army in the galaxy, you all like to act like you're powerless," Ana muttered. "Fine. Bring the pain."

* * *

A/N: Uh, oh, Snoke wants to see her again. What's in store this time?

As always, thank you for reading, and an extra thank you for reviewing/following or making this story one of your favorites! I thrive on your support!


	25. Plans

The First Order definitely had an aesthetic, and they stuck to it, she'd give them that. Red and black and hexagons fucking _everywhere_. Snoke's throne room—that's really what it was, a room so grand with a chair featured in the center—was the epitome of the First Order's garish style. The floor was such a shiny black that she could see her reflection in it when she walked into the room, Phasma hesitating at the doorway. Apparently the invitation hadn't extended to the chrome captain.

To go with the varnished floor, eight guards stood in an odd semi-circle formation around Snoke, dressed in glossy red armor. _What ostentatious bodyguards_. They stood still as statues, drawing attention to the only thing in the room with a different sort of color—Snoke, lounging slightly to one side in his throne, dressed in a golden robe. Ana's boots clicked against the spotless floor; Hux stood in front of Snoke, their conversation nearly over, and Snoke gave a rumbling sort of laugh. Ana paused a ways back from the pair, wondering if she was privy to the conversation, and took in the man whose holographic form had tortured and terrified her.

 _Shorter than I thought he'd be._

As if he'd sensed her thoughts, Snoke turned his deformed face to her. "Ah, good. Anavexi, isn't it?"

"You've been in my head," she said with a no-nonsense tone. "You could probably tell me my middle name."

Hux's head snapped up to her, looking annoyed that she still had a mind to sass their Supreme Leader, but Snoke chuckled.

"Such bite," said Snoke. "Hux has just finished expounding on the progress you've been making. He claims you were indispensable on Garel. I am eager for a demonstration."

If Hux looked any more surprised, his eyebrows would fly off his face. "Sir, she's only just come from the medbay, surely allowing her a bit more time to recover—"

"I'll take the one with the Bilari whip," Ana interrupted, gesturing to the third guard.

"Ana," Hux snapped at her.

Snoke seemed pleased, however, and she shrugged off Hux's concern. Snoke had his mind set, and he wouldn't have allowed Hux to talk him out of it. At least this way maybe she could control her opponent, and she recognized the weapon in the guard's hands as one that could potentially do less damage than his counterparts.

 _Plus that helmet is just obnoxious, how can they see out of that thing?_

"Do you feel your injury will hinder you?" Snoke asked, though he already knew the answer—or at least, planned on continuing anyway regardless of her answer.

"Is this a fight-to-the-death scenario, are we on a points system, or what?" Just to be safe, Ana tested the strength of her legs by stretching in a casual way while Hux flickered between agitated and concerned. Why should he be concerned? Did he truly think her so delicate? Did he think she'd lose?

"I'll call it off when I am satisfied with your development." Snoke gestured at his guard, who stepped forward and snapped his weapon.

This time there was no fog. Instead, she was hyper-aware of her body, of his; every movement was pinpoint precise, every strike was planned and anticipated. The whispering from her meditation had started up, though, as he struck out at her with the electro-chain, a jumble of voices some male and some female that were both familiar and strange to her. Their fight was like a dance—unlike fighting Kylo, whose movements were full of power and therefore heavy and thundering, or fighting the Resistance militia who operated with a level of inexperience with hand-to-hand combat. They were spinning around each other so much that Ana was starting to get dizzy, and Snoke still hadn't called for them to yield.

She had no weapon to block his strikes with, opting to dodge most of his attacks instead and launch well-placed strikes that, while they caused him to stumble, might not be doing much underneath his armor. His electro-whip stung when it did land, leaving red stripes across her arms. At one point, his whip circled her half-mechanical arm and nearly shorted the freshly-mended circuits. He was pulling her forward, the whip locked around her bicep, and with heavy strain and a planted stance, she tucked her arm close to her, put the whip and the guard at her back, and threw him over her shoulder. He went down with a thud, his grip on the weapon slacking, and she ripped it from his grip. She hesitated before swinging it down, and in that moment of hesitation, the seventh guard had stepped forward and unsnapped his polearm into dual-blades, swiping for her stomach. She hopped back almost a split second too late, sweat dripping down her brow, and looked at Snoke.

Instead of stopping it, Snoke gestured at his guard expectantly.

 _Torture-den_ , she thought. _It's not enough to get inside my head, he's gotta make me run like a hamster on a wheel—_

"Is this because of the short comment?" she asked, watching the seventh guard begin to circle her. "I honestly just thought, with how large you made your hologram—it's your fault really, for planting those expectations in the first place, you know—" The seventh guard swiped at her again with his blades. She ducked, bent backwards. "Should really just keep the hologram going, not even show your face in person ever, makes you a lot more spooky—" Using the whip to bat away her opponent's strikes, she felt herself starting to lose ground. "Would probably keep you safer too, why aren't you big dictator types more careful about your personal security? You're harder to kill if no one's ever seen you—"

"Stop talking and _fight_ ," Snoke boomed.

" _Alright,_ alright." She flicked the whip, plucking one of the blades from the guard's hand, and when he lunged for her again, she dropped to one knee, struck at the soft spot of his underarm and heard bones crack—she spun in a tight pirouette, wrapped the whip under the juncture of his helmet to curve around his neck—

"There it is!" Snoke announced, and she dropped the guard with a grimace. "Well done."

But Snoke wasn't looking at her; he was looking at Hux. "You were right, general, she is voracious. You have groomed her nicely. Perhaps she was wasted on my apprentice."

Her spine snapped pin-straight. Was that what this had all been about? The guards picked themselves up and moved back to their posts, while Ana's brain was still trying to catch up. Had Hux brought her here to brag? Like he was showing off a successful office project? As her resentment began to boil—used, _again_ —the door behind them opened.

"Come in, my protégé," said Snoke. "You've missed quite a show."

Ren's eyes settled on Ana almost immediately. She met his gaze, scowling, and wiped blood from her lip.

"What are they doing here?" His unmasked face glanced to Hux and away, the other man smirking.

Snoke looked mildly irritated with Ren, but the expression smoothed. "Demonstrating that Hux has succeeded where you failed. The girl is a marvel."

Ren bristled immediately at the taunt. "I was the one who unlocked her memories, I saw her potential—"

"And yet she had not truly reached it until she was out from under you."

The insinuation made Ana's cheeks burn. "I've had enough of this." She chucked away the Bilari whip, turning to leave.

Hux called after her. "We haven't been dismissed by the Supreme Leader—"

"Stuff it, Hux," she snapped.

Ren grabbed her arm as she passed him. " _Why_?" he asked.

"I don't owe you an explanation. I don't owe you _anything_."

"Let her go, Ren," said Snoke, dismissing Hux with a wave of his hand. "You've had enough time with her today, don't you think? I have something else we must discuss."

* * *

"The fuck was that, Hux?" Ana hissed when they were in the hall. "Did you just take credit for me, as if I were a military plan or a new type of gun?"

"You _are_ a weapon—"

"You _used_ me. You're treating me like some kind of pawn so that, what, you can get a promotion? Snoke's approval? Did daddy not love you enough or something?"

"Watch your tone," he snarled.

"I am not a tool to take down Ren."

"Of course you're not—"

"Don't lie to me, Hux, I'm so sick of being lied to! Now for once, would someone on this goddamn ship tell me the truth."

"You're not just a pawn, Ana." He stepped closer to her. "I need you."

"Need me," she scoffed. "I bet all the girls fall for that cheap line—"

"You've fallen for worse, haven't you?" he said derisively. "What did Snoke mean by what he said to Ren? Did he go to see you?"

"He came by the medbay, what does that matter? You're deflecting!"

"He's manipulating you, Ana. He's undeserving of you. Your power, your affection. I need you. He doesn't. Imagine what we could do, the order we could bring to the galaxy, with me fully at the helm and Ren gone, with you at the head of my army. We will demolish the Resistance, bring them to their knees—"

"I don't _care_ about the fucking Resistance! I don't care about your plans, or Snoke's plans, or the First fucking Order. I've got my own plans, Hux, and I won't let a bunch of childish, power-hungry blowhards keep me from them!"

Hux's eyes flashed fire, his face twisted and ugly. "I don't appreciate being lumped in with _Ren_ —"

"I don't appreciate being _manipulated_. You should work on your acting, Hux." She kept her tone hard, refusing to soften even when something close to hurt flashed across his expression.

"Does he really have such a hold on you?" he asked lowly.

She groaned in response, throwing her arms up. "This has nothing to do with Ren! Can I not be autonomous?"

"Remember, Ana," Hux said, his gaze powerful. "I've come for you when he hasn't, and I will continue to do so. Be careful where your loyalties lie. He will always undervalue you. I see your worth." He brushed past her, their shoulders bumping. "Our shuttle leaves for Corellia in two hours."

Ana wanted to scream in frustration. _Used_ , always _used_. Ghrrik, Ren, Snoke, Hux. Hux was acting like he was somehow better, despite manipulating her just as thoroughly as any of them, playing just as low and dirty—Hux may even be _worse_ , she thought, aiming to trick her with niceties and false tenderness.

 _You knew_ , she thought. _You suspected he wasn't genuine. Why should it matter? Why should it hurt?_

 _Because it means there really is no one who truly cares about you._

"What am I supposed to do on this ship for two hours?" she muttered, trying to shrug off her own thoughts.

 _Don't move, Ana._ Ren's voice split through so strongly that it gave her a sharp jolt of pain.

 _No._ She broadcasted that word, large and heavy, to him.

His confusion echoed back at her. _No?_

 _No, I'm not waiting, no, I'm not dealing with your tantrum, and no, I'm not sorry for the stunt I pulled in the med bay._ She was mocking him, throwing his own words at him from when he had denied her the trip to Coruscant and started this whole arc in motion—

 _Are you going back with_ _him_? His disgust was evident.

 _Shouldn't you be paying attention to Snoke?_ Ana rolled her eyes, leaning against the wall of the hallway. _He's probably listening in._

 _What was the point of all that in the medbay if you were still going to choose him?_

 _Are you serious? I'm not choosing Hux. I'm just not choosing_ _you_ _._

 _I don't accept that._

 _Of course you don't. Gonna give up on the scavenger then? I don't do second fiddle._

 _If I can turn her, think of what an asset she'd be—_

 _Yeah, sure, that's why you're obsessed with her._

 _You keep insisting on my obsession, but who is truly obsessed? I'm not the one disappearing with another man—_

"Well I didn't kick _you_ off the ship with nowhere to go, _did I_?" Her voice rang out; she barely realized her outburst was aloud. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, telling herself she wouldn't let him get to her again, she was stronger than that—

"I'm not aimless anymore," she said, mostly to herself. She thought of her dreams, of Ossus, of something waiting for her that she couldn't quite describe.

 _You still want to escape_. Ren's voice returned. _I thought you had accepted this_.

 _Is that what you want, Kylo? Acceptance?_ For the barest of moments, she could feel his vulnerability. _Do you believe the girl will give that to you?_

 _She has nothing—_

 _She doesn't accept you. She wants to change you. She wants to strip you down, not to get at who you really are, but to get at who you used to be. The scavenger wants Ben back in the Light. Wants the boy who never went to the Dark Side in the first place instead of figuring out the man who went through it and came out with the scars. That's not acceptance._

She received no response, a headache tugging at her from behind her eyes, and set off down the hall away from Snoke's throne room. There had to be a better way to spend two hours.

"Something is calling me," she whispered, knowing he was still listening. "While you and Hux fuck around with the Resistance, something much bigger is calling me, and I aim to find out what it is."

She'd go back to the base with Hux, and from there, Ossus. Two could play at the manipulation game; she was going to find out what was on Ossus, why Arden had been appearing to her, even if she had to go through Hux to do so.

 _I won't be fooled again._

* * *

A/N: Ana's got big plans, Hux was planning to surpass Kylo, and Kylo...Kylo's just worried about his ego.  
Tune in next time! Thanks in advance for reviews/favorites/follows! The next chapter is going to have a slightly sweeter moment (won't say yet with who!) as well as some more action!


	26. Fantasy Reality

"—after that, I'll be on Corellia for just another day or so," Hux said, their first day back on the base. They were in his rooms, Hux back to insisting he needed her when he wasn't in meetings. "Would you...rather stay here?"

"Huh?" Ana looked up from examining her torn fingernails. "Hey, I've been wondering, who watches your cat when you're away?"

Hux sighed, looking up from his paperwork. "Were you listening at all?"

"It's Phasma, isn't it? I bet it's Phasma."

"You should be paying more attention, this affects you as well—"

"Does it?" Ana tilted her head innocently.

Hux slammed his pen down in his desk. "You're being rather petty, don't you think?"

She pointed at him, "Pot," then at herself, "kettle."

"What do you _want_ from me, Ana?"

"Freedom," she said immediately. "Honesty. Humility would be nice, but one thing at a time."

"Freedom," he repeated. "You already had your little run at Coruscant, where else could you _possibly_ have to go?"

"Doesn't matter, point is I want it. Are you worried I won't come back?"

"I know you'll come back, or that Mirialan you care about so much will be left penniless again," he snapped.

She rolled her eyes. "Then what's the harm in giving my leash some slack?"

"Not until you tell me where you intend to go. If I'm to provide you a ship and any First Order resources, I need more details."

"Trust goes both ways, Hux."

Hux scoffed at her, and they went back to silence.

* * *

She dreamed this time of Ossus and a man with blue eyes, wavy brown hair, and Kylo's broad shoulders. She didn't recognize him from her grandmother's stories—

"I'm from your father's stories," he said, smiling. "I'm the knight."

" _The_ knight?" she repeated, skeptical. She glanced at him up and down. He certainly didn't look like a knight, dressed in loose brown robes. "You were a real person? Or am I hallucinating fictional characters now?"

"Is that what you think these have been? Hallucinations?"

"What else would they be?" She scraped her nails against the bark of a nearby kingwood tree. "I've read the reports in the First Order database. Ossus doesn't look like this anymore, at least not most of it. There's still electrical storms, chemical clouds, half the atmosphere isn't conducive to life…" She reached down, plucked a heart-shaped leaf from the forest floor, and absentmindedly tore it. "And kingwood trees have been extinct for years."

"Well then." The knight looked amused. "Why hallucinate me?"

"Maybe I missed my dad or something. I hallucinated him last time."

He looked sympathetic. "This isn't a hallucination, Anavexi."

"Just the kind of thing a hallucination would say." She set off through the trees in a random direction, hoping to stumble upon the building again.

"What are you looking for?" The knight was following her.

"There's a stone," she said, "some kind of artifact. It called out to me. You're my delusion, shouldn't you know that?"

A shadow passed over the knight's face. "The Kashi Mer talisman. You need to be careful if you're going after such a powerful artifact of the Dark Side."

"Thanks for the advice." Ana rolled her eyes. "You're a tragic romantic character from a children's story, sorry if I take your words with a grain of salt."

He smiled. "You'd be surprised how much one can learn when you've been one with the greatest energy in the galaxy for thirty-odd years. Though I appreciate your grit, Anavexi. I can see why Ben should have such an interest in you."

"Ben," she scoffed. "I'll be happy if I never hear that name again." The trees parted to reveal the building, fully intact as it might have been in the planet's prime. She set up the steps, the building shaped like a temple.

"Why don't you tell me why you're so against Ben? Do you prefer him as Kylo Ren, with all his flaws?" The knight was still smiling, amusement dancing in his blue eyes. "I need both sides of my grandson, after all."

Ana's steps stumbled in shock and she tripped, falling forward on her hands. "You're not—there's no way you're—"

"Vader? I suppose the lack of…" He gestured around his own face. "Right."

"You're telling me that _Darth Vader_ is the knight in my father's favorite story?" Her lip curled into a snarl. "This isn't very funny."

"I did have a life before I was Darth Vader, you know. How else would I have had children?"

"I assumed some kind of gross experiment orchestrated by the emperor," she muttered, finally picking herself up and ascending the steps once more.

"Even someone like me can love," he said. "Especially someone like me. The Dark Side draws on anger, jealousy, unrestrained passion. Don't you ever wonder why the Jedi were forbidden from marriage?"

"Honestly, I can say I've never done much wondering about the Jedi," she snapped. "And I'm not a Force-user, so save your lectures for—"

"You are a daughter of Palawa. You are as reliant on the Force as any living creature. It flows through you, as it flows through all, and you are as capable of falling as any Sith or Jedi."

She reached the top of the stairs, standing before a large stone door with intricate carvings. "So, what? Are you here to warn me against the dangers of the Dark Side? Why don't you pass along some of those Force powers, they seem marvelously useful, I'd love to be able to levitate shit—"

"I'm here to remind you that there is a balance." He watched her as she put her hand on the door. "So few of us understand what that means."

"I don't know if I care." Ana pushed on the door; it swung open, the air musty, and—

She awoke, to an empty room and a growing frustration.

* * *

The knight—she refused to call him Vader—didn't appear to her again. Arden, however…

"I've figured it out," the dark-haired woman said. "Why the talisman hasn't called to you. Why your visions of Ossus never take you past…" She gestured at the closed door of the temple, where Ana stood staring. "Though I still don't know why you're convinced it's on Ossus, I've _been_ to Ossus, it was a wasteland."

"You've been dead for more than three decades," Ana muttered. "And I didn't choose Ossus, something must be there, I didn't even know about it before—"

"You're letting him distract you."

"Hux? He's not a distraction, he's a nuisance. He's pouting like a child because I won't play into his stupid plot."

"Not _him_ ," said Arden with disgust. " _Him_." The form of Kylo Ren, in full black robes, appeared beside her. "How roguish. I can see the appeal." She grabbed the Kylo clone by his chin, turning his face to admire his jaw. "You'll never become what you were meant to be with him bouncing around your head like this," said Arden with scorn, dismissing the illusion of Kylo with a wave of her hand. "Kill him."

"Kill him?" Ana blinked at the other woman.

"Is that a problem?"

"It's a...bit extreme." Ana frowned. "He's not _that_ much of a distraction. I can tune him out perfectly fine—"

"You tried leaving him and he has made it clear he will follow. The next step is logical." Arden's eyes narrowed. "Is that a problem? You claim you loathe him, I thought this would be easy. And you're not so incapable of it."

Ana tensed, shoulders back. "Of course it's not a problem, but he's still stronger than me, if he sees it coming he'll kill me first—"

"Then he mustn't see it coming," Arden said simply. "Come now, Ana. Weren't you just thinking it was time for some manipulation of your own?"

Their surroundings changed, darkened; she recognized the room, back on the Finalizer, in Kylo's quarters—

"This is still a dream," she whispered, her eyes finding Kylo sleeping beneath his black sheets. He stirred slightly at her voice.

"It's not a dream," Arden whispered back, too close to her ear, too close to her back. "Careful, you'll need a plan if you wake him."

But it wasn't real, it couldn't be. This was some kind of subconscious test.

Kylo grunted, rolled into his other side, and Ana froze. _Not real, not real. He can't even see me—_

His sleep-clogged voice called her name, his eyes unfocused and searching for her in the dark, and her heart thudded.

"This can't be real," she murmured.

"Come here, nova," he said, reaching his hand out to pull her to his side on the bed.

 _Why isn't he questioning why I'm here? Why isn't he angry with me?_

He tucked her against his broad chest, settling back against the pillows. "Would it be this easy when awake."

 _He thinks this is a dream. He dreams of this._

For some reason, she had to fight the urge to weep. His hold on her was warm, comfortable, and he had drifted back to sleep within moments. Arden appeared to her again, smirking, and Ana wished she would go away. Go away and just let her enjoy this for a few more—

"Do it," Arden whispered, and a vibroblade appeared in her curled fingers.

 _This has to be a dream, it just has to be—_

 _Kill him, Ana, and become what you were meant to be._

She lifted the knife, his face so _peaceful_ —

 _I can't do it. Why can't I do it?_

It was something about this, the strange honesty and newfound reverence when he looked at her like this, and the gentleness in his arms as he sighed into her hair. If he looked at her that way all the time, she thought briefly, maybe things could be different—

"Foolish girl."

There was a loud, sickening sound, and the bed beside her grew damp. The room was flooded with light and Kylo's dead, wide eyes stared at nothing as his blood soaked the sheets—

Ana couldn't help the scream, the pain blossoming across her chest, her fumbling hands reaching for him—

"He's going to die regardless, you worthless little cur." Arden's voice, coming from nowhere, trickled down to her. "If not by your hand then by hers," the room morphed to a debris-strewn battlefield, the desert girl stabbing him in the heart with her lightsaber, "or his," they were in Snoke's throne room, and the disfigured man snapped Kylo's neck with a flick of his fingers, "or even by Hux, he's itching to end him." The final scene, Kylo on his knees before Hux while the general raised his blaster between Kylo's eyes—

"Stop it," Ana gasped. "Please, stop it."

"You're still so _weak_ ," Arden spat, and her dream dissolved.

Ana awoke in bed, drenched in sweat, and feeling very far from well-rested.

* * *

A/N: I had a hard time with this chapter. I want to have some serious changes happening for them, especially with Ana's new revelation. Also, it's worth considering if Ana's sanity is starting to go or if she's really having these visions...

As always, thanks for the reviews/favorites/follows!


	27. Into the Fray

"We've pinpointed the location of General Organa," Hux said, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of men working on the starship. The hangar was full of noise, banging and hammering and the spitting sparks of welding.

"And you're telling me because…" Ana had taken to tying her hair back, but little pieces kept slipping from the tie and falling in her eyes. She had half a mind to ask Hux for a blade so she could cut it herself.

"Ren and I will rendezvous and then head to their location on Wrea with a small fleet." Hux cleared his throat, his hands clasped behind his back. "The _Finalizer_ will remain in orbit, I will take a shuttle from the planet surface—"

 _Oh,_ Ana thought. _That's why he's telling me._

"He won't come down to the base, but he'll be...in the area, so to speak."

Ana nodded once. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah." Ana shrugged despite the anxiety welling in her throat. "Okay."

"I thought...you'd have more of a reaction to this news."

Ana avoided his eyes, watching with intense focus as a mechanic connected another panel to the half-built ship. "Why should I?"

There was a strange relief on Hux's face that made Ana uncomfortable. "You shouldn't."

 _He's trying to trick you, Ana. He just wants you on his side, wants you against me—_

She slammed Kylo out of her head like locking a steel door, cutting him off mid-sentence. She didn't need his voice right now, not when she still couldn't figure out how she felt about what Arden had shown her.

 _You know exactly how you feel about what Arden showed you_ , she scolded herself. _Just don't let it distract you_.

* * *

That night, she killed Kylo.

She hadn't meant to—She'd been fighting the desert girl, had wrested her lightsaber from her hands and drove it into the bitch's chest—Except when she looked up through her hair in her victory, it was Kylo. He coughed blood; it hit her cheek, warm and wet and it felt so _real_ —and she shut off the saber as his large form collapsed against her.

This wasn't real, couldn't be real, she wouldn't, she _didn't_ —

She bolted upright in bed, torn that she should be so upset, so downright panicked, that she had killed him. She shouldn't have cared, and yet...Hux sat at her bedside, eyes wide and hands reaching for her. His hair was mussed from sleep, his shirt wrinkled, and in any other scenario she would have laughed at him. As it was, she simply tried to catch her breath and still the frantic beating of her heart as he smoothed her sweat-drenched hair from her forehead.

"Ana, relax," he said, voice quiet. "Ana, it was just a nightmare, whatever it was, just a nightmare."

"Hux," she gasped. "Why—" She swallowed. "Why're you here?" She glanced around the room, frantic, convinced she was still in her own head and Arden was still mocking her from the shadows.

"You were screaming," Hux said, furrowing his brow. "What in blazes do you dream about, Ana?"

It was real this time, it was all real. She tried to calm herself, closing her eyes. "I'm alright now."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine." She didn't mean to snap, but she was so tired. "Please, just go."

"Ana—"

"Go _away_ , Hux."

But he didn't go away. "Do you remember," he said, "when you were wandering the halls of the Finalizer one night?"

"What?"

"You said you didn't want to go back to your room, you didn't want to sleep."

"So?"

"Do you really want me to go, Ana?"

She could see in his eyes, if she said yes again he would leave. Without hesitation. Without guilt.

"I…" She licked her lips. "I just don't want to go back to sleep."

His eyes softened. "Okay, Ana. Okay."

* * *

Hux sat with his back against the headboard, reading one of the books he'd provided in her room. Ana was resting with her head on his leg, pressing hard into her eyes with her hands. It was intimate, almost past the point that she should feel comfortable with it, but she was almost too tired to care. His presence was oddly...pleasant.

"You should sleep," she said finally.

"I'll be fine."

She huffed, twisting her hair around her fingers until it knotted. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, detangling it for her. "I can't wait to cut it," she said.

"Why? It suits you."

"Don't think you can butter me up," she grumbled, ears burning. She pressed her hands back into her eyes when he chuckled. She peeked through her fingers. "What's it about?"

He glanced down at her, raised a questioning eyebrow, and she gestured at the book in his hands.

"It's a complete planetary history of Alderaan."

Ana frowned. "Didn't the Empire destroy Alderaan?"

Hux rolled his eyes again and said, "Yes, they did, as I'm sure the last chapter will cover."

"Why are you reading a book on the history of a planet your beloved Empire blew up?"

"Because it's interesting, why does anyone read anything?" Hux turned the page. "There's a drink they made, a bubbly alcohol called Toniray. A few bottles are left, floating around the galaxy."

" _That's_ the most interesting thing in the entire history of 'the planet of beauty'?"

Hux chuckled, rumbling near her head. "You know your history. There's plenty more. Do you want to read it when I'm done?"

She shook her head. "Read it to me."

"I'm not a nanny—"

"Just for a bit," she said, and her dignity wouldn't let her say please.

* * *

She didn't even realize she had fallen asleep again, but when she opened her eyes, it was morning and Hux was gone. He had left the book, a small slip of paper tucked in as a bookmark to show where he'd left off, and she wondered if he'd even dozed at all.

Her door slid open, and for a moment she thought he was back—the sound of boots on the cement floor was too heavy for the proper general, though, which could only mean—

"I recognize those wampa steps," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Hux said you were supposed to stay on the Finalizer."

Kylo leaned against the doorway. She expected anger, ferocity, and was confused by his casual stance instead. Perhaps this, too, was a dream.

"How'd you know I was down here?"

"Phasma didn't remember much of your training," he said. "That was a wasted avenue, it seems."

"You finally dug through her mind. How invasive of you." She sighed. "And here I thought Hux had squealed. Now what do you want?"

For a minute or so, he was quiet. She couldn't read his expression, couldn't pinpoint an emotion.

Then, he said, "Come back with me."

"Why should I?"

"I asked."

"Oh, well in that case—" she said with a snort. "Go back to the Finalizer, leave me alone."

"Ana."

She cursed the goosebumps that spread across her skin when he used her name, her real name. She _hated_ this blasted man and the way he made her feel—

"I hurt you," he said. "When I threw you off the Finalizer."

"No shit—"

"You asked a question, about a name I had been trying to destroy for years. You asked, like you…" He scowled, looking frustrated with himself, and shook his head. "Like you _cared_ , and I am not a man who is used to having someone who cares."

"Don't worry," she said with a grimace. "I won't make that mistake again."

"You aren't understanding me, Ana!" he snapped, and then he ran his fingers through his hair. "I didn't mean to push you away so completely. I only wanted... You disarmed me. I overreacted. But for you to go to Hux..."

"I didn't go to Hux, _you threw me away like trash_ —"

"If you were truly trash, I would have _given_ you to him," said Kylo, his patience finally snapping. "Though I wonder how hard you really made him work for it, or if you gave in to him immediately like the whore you were trained to be."

She slapped him, quick across the cheek, and for a moment there was a stunned silence. She hadn't expected the blow to land—his response time was too quick for it, he should have frozen her with the Force or grabbed her wrist, but the slap resounded in her ears and her palm stung from the force of it. A red mark blossomed across his cheek, his dark hair obscuring his eyes.

"How many times have you fucked him, then?" His voice was snide and jabbing. She still couldn't see his eyes.

"I _hate_ you." The words left her lips in a voice she didn't recognize, "I hate you, _I hate you_ ," and her mind was brimming with her anger. "How can you expect me to go back with you if this is what you consider an apology?"

"I wasn't apologizing—" he barked.

"Then we're done here."

"Just—" He reached out for her arm as she went to move past him, and that was when she saw his eyes. They looked wide, open, _sad_. It was an emotion from him that was clear, that wasn't _anger_ , and she didn't know what to do. "Why _him_?"

" _If_ ," she stressed, "I were to get involved with Hux, it would be because he shows that I matter." _Even if he takes advantage of my skills to make you look bad._ "He acts like I'm worth something. Additionally, as I seem to keep reminding you, _if_ Hux and I get involved, it _has nothing to do with you_."

"You don't mean that," he whispered. "I mean something to you. I know I do."

"And I clearly mean nothing to you, so why not leave me be, Kylo?"

"Ana," he said, and he sounded so pleading, all the fight and fire gone from him.

He looked so...vulnerable in that moment, and she hesitated until blaring alarms cut through her own thoughts. Kylo tensed up, and she watched, stunned, as he carefully rebuilt his wall. Soon, the vulnerability was gone, and Ana felt its loss.

"What is that?" she asked. "Are we under attack?"

He squeezed her arm once, not painfully, and then let go. "Stay here."

She snorted through her nose. "Of course not, I'm Hux's number one weapon, aren't I—"

"Nova," he said, stopping her with his stare. "Stay. Here."

He disappeared out the door, and less than a minute later, an explosion rumbled through the facility.

 _Shit_. She ran from the room, soldiers scrambling down the hall around her. No way was she going to sit put and let Kylo fight all by himself again—especially if that damned Jedi girl was here—

Another explosion blew a wave of fire through the hall, the ceiling falling to rubble, and Ana was knocked back from the force of the blast.

Her ears were ringing. Blood dripped from a cut on her forehead, smearing across her brow when she reached up to keep it out of her eyes. She tried to clamber to her feet but was too disoriented, falling back down. There was a voice in her head, calling for her in a panic, and it sounded like Kylo.

She coughed, trying once more to stand up, and saw the strewn bodies of Stormtroopers beneath chunks of the facility's roof. She could see movement through the dust and the fire, people— _Resistance_.

She was still too wobbly when the first soldier stepped through the smoke, so his blaster shot grazed her side. She hissed through her teeth but moved forward anyway, her hand finding his chest and shattering four ribs. He dropped to the ground, and she moved on.

 _Are you alright, nova?_

Why was it so easy for him to slip into her mind? Why didn't she build her wall until he was already inside? She ducked another blaster shot, swinging her arm out to catch the owner's windpipe with her elbow. For a moment, she considered not answering him, and he sent the question again with an added level of anxiousness.

 _I'm alright,_ she reluctantly sent back. _How many are there?_

 _Four X-wings, maybe two dozen foot soldiers. They targeted Hux's new starship._

Ah, that would explain why the flames were so intense. If they'd successfully blown up the new construction, the fire would burn for a long while. She stepped over the rubble and out into a firefight—TIE fighters whizzed overhead to take out the X-wings, Stormtroopers were already engaged with the foot soldiers Kylo had mentioned. _Into the fray,_ she thought, though her feet still felt a little disconnected from her body.

 _I told you to stay put._

 _Yeah, well, the hallway outside my room kind of blew up…_

She picked up the blaster rifle of a fallen trooper, fired it square into the chest of a man in an orange flight-suit who had ejected from his damaged X-wing.

That was when she saw the girl.

 _Don't engage, nova._ Kylo sounded panicked, and that seemed odd to her. Was he _worried_ about the scavenger?

But she didn't have to chase after the girl. The girl, running with her lightsaber in her hand, paused when she saw Ana.

"I remember you," said the girl. "From Garel."

Ana's response was to fire the blaster rifle again. The girl dodged the shot with ease and, much to Ana's annoyance, continued to _talk_.

"If you're here, that means Ben is here."

The growl that slipped from Ana's lips would have frightened her on a normal day. "That's not his name." She launched herself at the girl.

The scavenger was slippery. She liked to duck, had a wide swing with the lightsaber, and heavily favored her right side. Ana didn't have a weapon like she'd had the baton last time, especially when the scavenger sliced through her blaster rifle. Ana chucked the pieces to the side, the girl's eyes following them, and Ana landed a solid punch to the scavenger's left temple.

She stumbled back, swinging the saber. Ana backed off, waited for the wildness of her attack to yield to an opening—when it did, she swept the girl's legs from under her, poised for the killing blow—

But the girl was still Force-sensitive, still faster than the average Resistance fighter, and she rolled away from Ana's heavy downswing. Her hand smashed rock into gravel, harmlessly. When the girl aimed to take advantage of Ana's kneeling form, Ana struck out at her wrist, holding her at bay. She threw her left fist in a strike aimed for her side, and the girl grabbed her arm to stop the blow.

 _Ana_. Kylo's voice was sharp in her mind.

She delivered a kick to the girl's chest, causing her to stumble back, and a passing X-wing peppered the ground between them with weapons fire. Ana covered her eyes from the dirt and sparks that got kicked up, and when she opened them again the scavenger was just staring at her.

"Why?" the girl asked. "Why are you helping them?"

A dark-skinned man ran up to the girl, grasped at her shoulder.

"Rey, we've gotta go," the man urged her. "They've blown the hangar, but there's a dreadnought on the way."

"We're taking her with us." The girl was still looking at her.

"What? Rey, we don't have time—"

"Contact Chewie, tell him to pull the _Falcon_ around." She deactivated her lightsaber and reached out her hand toward Ana. "You don't belong here. I can tell. Come with us."

The girl had barely finished speaking before Ana was shaking her head and laughing. "Why would I go with you? I want to _kill you_."

The girl's face flickered with confusion, fear, and then her resolve hardened. "You will come with us."

Ana recognized the steady tone of her voice and steeled her mind against it. "No, I won't."

"You _will_ come with us."

"Rey, we seriously do not have time." Then the man was lifting his blaster and pain blossomed across her chest before her world went dark.

* * *

She came to in small bursts, little pockets of consciousness. Hux, watching her get taken, shouting for her—his cheeks red with emotion as he ordered his troopers to stop the Resistance and _bring her back_ —Kylo's anger, his saber slashing through men as if they were paper, on his way across the battlefield—then, on a junk ship, the ceiling dirty and tarnished, probably the ship the girl had referred to—

Kidnapped.

Kidnapped _again._

Ana groaned as she awoke, a mishmashed symphony of unknown voices swirling around her.

"You _shot_ her—"

"I had it set to stun—"

"—brought a prisoner back—"

Ana groaned again, shielding her eyes from the bright overhead light as she struggled to sit upright. Kylo was going to be _furious_.

"She could be useful—"

"She's waking up."

Ana sensed more than saw as attention was drawn to her, her eyesight still adjusting. "Hard to stay unconscious with all the yammering," she muttered. "You're all so _loud._ "

As her vision focused she saw she was in a cell, a traditional cell, bars over the door and everything. There were people standing outside, watching her like an animal at a zoo; the dark-skinned man and scavenger, as well as an older woman and three others. One was wearing bright orange. A Resistance pilot.

Another groan. Don't tell her she was—

"Sorry," blurted the man, rubbing the back of his neck. "For, um, shooting you."

The pilot rolled his eyes. "You don't have to apologize for stunning a prisoner, Finn."

"Where am I?" she asked, though the heavy ball of dread in her stomach told her she already knew the answer.

"Dameron, Finn, why don't you and the others wait outside," said the woman.

"Yes, General."

Stars in the sky, please be a different general—

"My name is Leia Organa," said the woman, and Ana could have shouted until her throat was hoarse. "You're with the Resistance."

She started laughing, and both female captors looked very confused. "You should have just killed me on Corellia." She flashed her teeth at Organa in a fierce, twisted smile. "He knows where you are. And he won't be pleased when he finds me gone. Your desert girl should have left me alone."

* * *

A/N: I'll pose one question to you all: Which man is Ana talking about?

Thanks in advance for the reviews/favorites/follows!


	28. Stupid Questions

She observed the surroundings of her tiny cell, built into the side of a hill if the dirty walls and lack of windows were any indication, with a dry, mild amusement. There was a guard standing at her door, talking to her, but she wasn't listening. It felt like she'd been here for hours already. Where was Hux, Kylo, Snoke? Snoke had already approved the attack on the Wrea outpost. Kylo had to know by now that she was taken, even if he hadn't seen it on the battlefield or heard Hux shouting after her, and his legendary temper had to mean he'd insist on going after her immediately. Not to be overshadowed, Hux would have organized a strike, gathered his troops; surely an attack was imminent. Any time now.

Organa had shuffled off with a look of mild concern after Ana's threat; she assumed it was news to the general that the First Order had any knowledge of their whereabouts, and she hoped briefly that it wasn't enough to somehow foil whatever plan Hux had concocted.

Then the desert brat came back. Ana surged toward the barred door, using all her speed on purpose and grinned madly when the girl jumped, the desired effect.

"My name is Rey," the girl tried.

"I don't care what your name is." She didn't bother to keep the disgust out of her voice and the girl physically recoiled.

"Whose side are you on?"

Here, Ana tipped back her head and laughed. What kind of question was that, truly? She didn't give a damn about the _war_. The war was so inconsequential to her—if the fates had allowed her to remain on Coruscant, the war probably would have never even touched her.

"At Garel," the girl tried again, "you were fighting for the First Order."

Ana scoffed derisively. "I fight for myself."

"And for Kylo Ren?"

Ana's mood turned even more sour. "Don't speak of things you understand nothing about."

"He's a murderer," the girl said with conviction. "He and the First Order have killed millions of people, they've destroyed an entire planet. He's even killed his own father—"

"Your point?" Ana interrupted. "I've killed dozens of Resistance fighters. If you let me out of this cell, I'm going to kill you." She leaned close through the bars of the cell. Much more traditional, she thought. "And what about you, hm? How many Stormtroopers do you think you've cut down with that fancy laser sword of yours? How much blood is on your hands?"

"That's different!" she protested.

"Is it? Do they not count? There are real men beneath that armor, you of all people should know that, didn't a Stormtrooper defect and join your little merry band? You mentioned the planet the First Order destroyed, but what about you? Starkiller Base was as big as a planet. There were hundreds of thousands of lives on it. Snuffed out, by you and the defector. Don't presume you're any better than me, or that the Resistance is any better than the First Order. We're all murderers here, sweetheart, and the sooner you drop the hypocritic hero act, the better off we'll all be."

There was a gentle pressure at the back of her mind, curling, curious—Ana shoved the pressure away and glared at the girl with all the venom she could muster. How dare she try to sneak into her mind?

"Not a chance, desert rat," Ana growled with fierceness.

The girl's eyes widened, her back stiffening, and the tension was broken when someone called out to her.

"Rey!" The pilot from earlier jogged in, his brown eyes flicking to Ana only once. "General Organa was looking for you."

The scavenger cast one last look at Ana and then left. The blaster graze on Ana's side throbbed, and she sat herself down on the edge of the cot to rest. Instead of following the girl out, the pilot—Organa had called him Dameron—pulled a chair up to the bars and sat down. Ana raised her eyebrows.

"Here to take in the sights?" she asked dryly. "Or is it your turn to try interrogating me?"

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and Ana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She could smell the overstated machismo from a mile away, this guy clearly thought he was all that and a bottle of brandy—

"The rat already tried invading my mind, so if you think just staring at me and being a nuisance is going to work, you're sorely mistaken."

He wore at weapon at his hip, a blaster, and when he didn't say anything to her she assumed he was her next on-shift armed guard. The staring was a bit unsettling, though…

When it became clear there would be no real conversation, she laid down on the cot, closed her eyes, and tried to clear her mind. She breathed in the quiet, reaching out and opening her mind, hoping she could pick up something from Kylo. But the girl was still there, still close and prying, and Ana beat a hasty retreat into her iron room when it became clear that she wasn't going to be able to let Kylo in without letting the scavenger in as well.

She stirred, disheartened by her discovery and growing gradually more frustrated. Where the _fuck_ was the First Order? Can't meditate, can't reach out to Kylo—

"Name and rank."

Ana raised her eyebrows. Flyboy was finally talking and that's what he asks? "Get a lot of First Order prisoners, do you?"

"Name." Dameron pulled his blaster from its holster. Not in a malicious or overtly threatening way, just casual as if he were making sure she could see it. He held it loosely, his forearms still resting on his knees. "Rank."

"You're not going to shoot me," she snorted. "And you'd be wasting your time, I don't have a rank." She stood, walking back to the bars. Placing her arms on the metal, she leaned against them to mirror his unconcerned demeanor. "See, here's the thing about prisoners. They have to have information you need, which I don't, and they have to be afraid of you, which I'm not."

"Then we kill you."

She pressed so close that the bars squeezed her cheeks. "I'd like to see you try."

He surged up from his chair, blaster cocked, and thrust the barrel to her forehead. "You're not very smart, are you? You're in a cage. You may not have a rank, but Rey says you protected Kylo Ren on Garel, and I was there on Corellia. General Hux seemed particularly incensed when we took you. So you will tell us everything we want to know, or I will drop your body off at his doorstep myself."

Ana paused for a moment to do the calculations in her head. It was clear that, desperate for an edge against the First Order as he may be, he was bluffing. They wouldn't kill her; everything she had heard about General Organa assured her that the woman wouldn't approve of it. If anything, if she didn't provide them information, she was still useful to them as a hostage if they thought she had some importance to the First Order. Dameron took her silence as more defiance, pressed the blaster harder into her forehead.

"First question: the starship we destroyed on Corellia, how many more are they building?"

"Dozens, I'm sure. Hux does so love his fleet." Ana flashed a cheeky smile.

"How many are Dreadnoughts?"

"I barely even know the difference between a Dreadnought and Star Destroyer—great names, now that I mention it, very villain-ish—"

Dameron growled low in his throat. "Where was the _Supremacy_ last in orbit?"

"Are you trying to kill Snoke? Good fucking luck with that—"

"Answer the question!"

"How long have I been here, a day? Might want to ask faster, Hux is probably on his way to Wrea as we speak."

Dameron's brows knitted in confusion and then evened into understanding. "They think we're on Wrea."

Ana's heart sank even as she tried to tell herself this was part of his game, he was bluffing again. Then he smiled, and she struck out through the bars, the heel of her palm striking his nose and the other hand snatching his blaster from his slackened grip. He stumbled back over his chair, blood gushing from his broken nose, and when he had gathered his bearings their roles were reversed. She was now pointing his blaster at him from her cage.

"You're not very smart, are you?" she mocked, her tone thickly covering her anxiety. "Keys to my cell, if you please. Chop, chop."

"You won't shoot."

She rolled her eyes, not stopping to think how this decision might have given her more pause last year, and fired the blaster at his leg. He shouted hoarsely, grabbing onto his thigh in pain.

"Focus, flyboy," she barked. "Limp over to the keys."

"What's your plan?" he asked through gritted teeth. "You'll never get off the base."

"Keys!" she shouted. "Or the next one is going to be a little to the left." She adjusted the blaster accordingly, aimed at the juncture of his legs.

He unlocked the door while she stood back, blaster steady. They'd have heard the shot if there was anyone nearby, she probably didn't have much time—With the door open, he tried for the blaster, lunging toward it. She halted him with a hearty punch to the diaphragm and brought the butt of the blaster hard across his temple. His body fell to the floor with a heavy thump, unconscious but alive. Ana was halfway down the hallway within moments, the walls made of the same greyish packed dirt as her cell, when she heard a mechanical wheezing.

"Commander Dameron, the general says she needs you in the command center—oh my."

A golden droid turned the corner of the hall and spotted her instantly, a protocol droid judging by its humanoid design and polite, accented voice chip.

"Not a peep, tin man," she said, lifting the blaster.

"That's the commander's weapon, oh dear, you've killed him, haven't you?" The droid was turning in little quarter circles.

"You're an anxious thing, aren't you?" Ana muttered. "Be quiet, flyboy isn't dead, but I make no such promises for your circuitry, now move."

The droid allowed her to pass by, still shifting nervously on its mechanical feet, but she had lost time. The floor sloped upward—underground indeed, she thought, worrying briefly what she'd be confronted with on the surface. Her only real concern was getting a comfortable distance away from the girl's incessant _prying_ so that she could open her shield. She loathed the idea that Kylo would have to come rescue her, but if they weren't on Wrea—if Hux's intel was wrong—

Even now the scavenger prodded, hoping to find a weak spot or wear her down, and she couldn't risk letting the fucking thing into her head let alone into her bond with Ren—

The hallway ended with a plain rusted metal door, a small slat window set into its upper half. She paused with the blaster at her side, peering through the slat. Above-ground was stark land, the soil a dark muddy brown—it was overcast, rain certain at any moment. There were people in various uniforms buzzing around like flies, stacks of crates and weapons caches, but she couldn't see any ships. For the best cover she should wait until it rains, but she didn't have the time—

"Leia sent C3PO to get him, it's fine."

Ana pressed herself against the side wall at the approaching voices, mind scrambling. The man called Finn. Which could only mean—

"I know, but we don't know what she's capable of yet, and Poe's been in there with her for a few hours."

Ana's jaw snapped shut so hard she caught the inside of her cheek between her teeth. _Fucking_ _scavenger_ _._

"You're the one who insisted we bring her along; if she's so dangerous—"

"She's new to the First Order. Last time I saw inside Kylo's head she was all he was thinking about. She'd never been there before."

 _She's been inside his head_ , Ana thought deliriously. _He let her in. I'll fucking kill her—_

"Poe just thinks she's like his bodyguard—"

"There's something else," the scavenger said. Their voices were now just on the other side of the door and Ana realized she had nowhere to run. Her grip on the blaster tightened. "Something different about her. I can't explain it."

"Is she like you?" Finn asked, and Ana felt the bile rising, stinging in her throat. _I am_ _nothing_ _like her._

"Not like me and Kylo," said the girl— _Don't group yourself with him_ —"But not like you and Poe either. Something else."

The door opened and Finn stepped through first, and Ana took one shallow breath before letting the raised blaster catch his attention. She stepped around the open door, watching in case the girl tried to go for her lightsaber.

"Something else will be on her way now," Ana said.

"What have you done to Poe?" Finn demanded, voice high with concern.

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Really? Blaster in your face and that's the first question you ask?" He reminded her a little of how she used to be. "I shot him." Not technically a lie. "I'm going to shoot you next, then her," she jerked the barrel of the blaster at the girl, who had almost taken a step forward, "and then I'm going to waltz over to your shuttles and be on my merry way."

"You told Leia the First Order knows where we are," said the scavenger. "Why not just wait for rescue?"

"That's a stupid question." She imperceptibly clicked the weapon to stun and fired, the close-range sending Finn back into the wall where he slumped, and the scavenger cried out. Ana flicked the switch back and leveled the blaster at her. "Go on, ask another one."

The scavenger's eyes were narrow with anger, her mouth contorted. Honestly, _this_ was what drew Kylo in?

"Now, I don't have any mind games, or any Force tricks to throw at you. All I've got is a blaster and a lot of hatred." Ana _relished_ in the expression on the girl's face, the knowledge that she was about to accomplish what Kylo had failed so many times to do— "So please. Ask another one. I'll finish what we started on Garel."

* * *

A/N: Will it really be this easy for Ana? Was Poe bluffing about them not being on Wrea? Stay tuned, I've got lots planned for her! And a special insight next chapter...

I'm consistently stunned and grateful for the reception this story is getting. Thank you all for reading/reviewing!


	29. Unwilling Participant

_Smoldering ash, rubble, and bodies. Standing at the center of it, maskless, shoulders shaking with barely-controlled anger. Mouth open in a roar that wracked his whole form, raw and pained._

 _Then, in Snoke's throne room. Numb and cold. Staring at the reflective floor. Remembering the smell of her hair._

" _Unacceptable," Snoke's voice cut through the cold. "Utter failure."_

" _The Wrea outpost was a decoy." Hux. Meek. Worried. "I've reached out to my contacts, we will find their true location—"_

" _The girl."_ _The girl, the girl, the girl._ " _What of her?"_

" _She…" Hux swallowed. Kylo shook. "She was not on Wrea."_

 _Rage. Something akin to fear. Pushing it down, don't show Snoke how much effect this had that she was still gone—_

" _She must be retrieved."_

 _Brief nod. "Yes, Supreme Leader."_

 _The hall. Hux's furious steps. His usual demeanor decimated in his frustration. "We must find her quickly—"_

" _It's your fault she was taken in the first place."_

 _Hux rounded, hissing, "_ _My fault_ _?"_

" _She was your responsibility." So angry. He should have her back by now. She should be at his side._

" _She wouldn't have been my responsibility if you weren't such a toddler! She wouldn't have been on the base at all!"_

" _If you had just told me where she was—if you hadn't let her out of your_ _sight_ —"

" _Where were_ _you_ _when they made off with her, huh? Halfway across the rubble looking for the scavenger; if you hadn't heard me yelling her name, how long until you actually noticed Ana was gone?"_

 _Hands on the front of Hux's shirt, lifting him off the floor, slamming him into the wall. "The fact remains,_ _you lost her_ _." The last shreds of his control, fading. "I will have her_ _back_ _, Hux."_

" _Where do you propose we look?" Hux snapped, nearly spitting in his face._

" _I don't know but when we find them we destroy them all in a hail of fire—"_

" _And what, pull her from the wreckage? Rather have her dead than in Organa's hands? We rain gunfire and Ana is dead, Ren. We blow them to smithereens and Ana is buried with the rebel scum. Try to have some care, for fuck's sake. You think I don't want to simply rush in and snatch her away from them?"_

 _Hux's eyes, searching his face for common ground. "I want her back. I want her back intact, all limbs and sardonic wit whole and untouched. Surely you can see where a brazen, bullheaded attack could put her at risk—surely, we want the same thing for once."_

" _I don't trust you." Lowered him. Fists clenched at his sides. "I don't trust that you can get her back."_

" _You'll have to. I have a plan."_

* * *

Ana awoke with a start and a gasp. How could she have been so _careless_? So _sloppy_. Next time she'd be sure to kill the flyboy; he'd come back to consciousness much too quickly. Just a few more seconds and the scavenger would be dead, she would be on a shuttle—she could've held a pilot hostage and forced them to fly her to Ossus, that would've been a smart thing to do—she tucked that idea away for later. Kylo _knew_ , he _knew_ she wasn't on Wrea, they'd already destroyed Wrea, so where the fuck was she? She should've bought herself more time, she should've paid more attention to her surroundings, maybe she could call for him—with a groan, she reached to rub her eyes. There was a metallic clink at the motion. She cracked her eyes open to see the chains around both her wrists, confining her to the floor.

"Seriously?" she asked dryly, lifting her hands.

Standing outside the bars of her cell, the pilot stood scowling at her, a bacta patch over the split on his temple and his nose swollen, crooked, and purple. Her side ached from the blaster wound sustained on Corellia, her head pounding—

"Don't look at me like that," she said, rolling her eyes. "It was your fault for having your gun that close to the bars."

"Name." Flyboy winced in pain when he stepped closer to her cell, his thigh thickly bandaged.

"Back to that shit again," she muttered. "Anavexi Tam, nice to fucking meet you." She stuck out her hand pointedly, the metal jingling.

"Poe, I think you've had enough time with her, don't you think?"

Flyboy grimaced at Ana one last time and left, and in his vacated chair the aging general sat, holding a cane close to her side.

"Here to chastise me for hurting your pilot?"

The general, for some reason, smiled and settled more comfortably into the chair, moving the cane between her knees. "The broken nose was a nice touch."

"Self defense," Ana shrugged. She frowned, realized she didn't feel the incessant badgering of the sand girl. "Where's your Jedi bitch?"

A shadow passed over the general's face. "Rey is off world."

Ana fought to keep the elation off her face, mildly curious as to where the girl would go.

"How long have you been with the First Order?" Unlike the pilot, Organa's voice was firm but not accusatory.

Ana blinked. Had she ever stopped to quantify it? How long _had_ it been? Time had seemed to sort of...blur."

"Months," she said eventually. "I didn't have a calendar."

"Rey tells me you defended Kylo Ren." Her expression was unreadable.

"So what?" Ana's face hardened. "I already told your pilot, I don't have any information."

"Your loyalty is...surprising. Given the kind of man Kylo Ren is." Organa pursed her lips. "Before we locked you back in there, we had our medics look you over." _I thought I felt bacta_. Ana touched her side, felt the thin gauze they'd put on her blaster burn. "Those are some nasty scars. Your shoulder." Organa nodded her head at it.

Ana's anger flooded to the surface, fresh and raw, from the woman's insinuation. "They aren't from _him_ ," she hissed. "And this isn't loyalty. I don't care about the First Order. I don't care about you either. I feel like I've said this a thousand times. Why can't everyone just leave me alone?"

"You don't care for the First Order's cause?" Organa looked confused. "Then why remain? We could help you defect—"

"I'm not a soldier," Ana spat. "And not everyone has the privilege of being a part of something because they _believe_ in it. Some of us are just trying to get by. I don't have time for _causes_ , not for your shallow 'noble' Resistance or for the short-minded, power-mad First Order—"

"You were his prisoner, then," said Organa, a look of understanding on her aging face, but Ana wasn't listening.

"—you've brought this on yourselves for taking me, Snoke won't have it, and between Hux and Kylo you're all going to die, and you can blame it all on your scavenger for sticking her nose where it didn't belong—and you tell her to stay out of my _fucking head_ or I'll rip her head off by those fucking ponytails—" Ana inhaled sharply, locking eyes with the general. "Fuck your Jedi girl and fuck your war."

Organa said nothing, her fingers clenching and unclenching around the handle of her cane. Ana's chest was heaving and she wanted the other woman to just leave her the fuck alone—

"You can continue being uncooperative if you like. But you won't be given another chance to escape, so it would behoove you to answer our questions. Even if you were a prisoner of Kylo Ren and not a fully willing participant, there are things you could know that would benefit us. And, if you were indeed unwilling, we can offer you an escape from the First Order." Her eyes dropped to Ana's wrists. "Those chains don't have to be permanent."

Ana settled her back against the wall. "Sorry, lady, your son kept me in a fucking electric collar at first. You're going to have to sweeten the incentives a bit."

The woman froze. "What did you just say?"

"They don't know, do they? Your little misfit band." Ana flashed another smile. "Wonder how that'd be received. I heard it didn't go over well for you when the Senate found out who your father was."

She was trying to get a rise out of her, and to the older woman's credit, she didn't give one. She simply left Ana alone in her cell, and Ana laughed to herself. An _escape_ , Organa claimed. The general presumed to know her circumstances, presumed to offer to _save her_ —they all thought they were so _noble_. She dragged the metal chains across the floor in a rhythmic motion, trying to calm and lull herself into meditation. The girl was gone, for how long? She may not have much time. He was reaching out for her, that much was clear from the vision she experienced; did he know she'd seen it?

She lowered her mental barrier until she was open, wholly vulnerable, and waited. There had never been a time since meeting Kylo that she had removed her wall so fully, left herself so unprotected, and it made her skin crawl.

 _I don't have to keep this up for long,_ she rationalized. _Just until they find me._

But there was nothing. For agonizing hours, there was nothing but the quiet of her own mind. She cursed the limitations of herself, knowing if he were closer she could broadcast something, anything. But with this distance, without him and his connection to the Force to initiate contact, there was nothing she could do.

"Did he tell you?" The general's voice cut through her meditation once more and Ana wanted to throttle her. "Did he tell you who he used to be?"

"Not quite," Ana said through clenched teeth. She kept her eyes steadfastly closed.

"But you know, don't you?"

"Yes. I know."

There was silence for a while. "What are you to my son?"

Ana opened her eyes with a roll. "Would it relieve you of your burden if I lied and said I was his lover?" she mocked. "That's what you want, isn't it? To know your son is capable of love? If he can love someone like me, doesn't that mean there's hope he still cares for his mother?" Ana's lips twisted in a scowl. "You and the scavenger are just the same. Wanting to turn back the clock and forget none of this ever happened. He wouldn't...he wouldn't be _him_."

"You talk as though you know him quite intimately. You're angry on his behalf."

"Of course I'm angry, _he's_ angry, why can't you see that you are partially to blame for this, all he ever wanted was praise and acceptance. Kylo Ren didn't materialize from nothing, it was _you_ and Luke pigeonholing him to be _just like Vader_ —until that was all he wanted, all he strived for, because that was all he thought he could be."

The general looked sad. "I see. You're in—"

"Don't," Ana growled, interrupting. "Don't say it. Don't you dare."

"There is a lot you don't know," Organa said instead. "Though I suppose you are right about one thing; it does relieve me a bit as a mother to see there is still something in him worthy of love."

The discomfort settled hard in Ana's chest. That wasn't—she didn't—

"Do you want to know what he was like? As a boy?"

"Do you want to know what he's like as a man?" Ana jeered, her embarrassment aiding her snarky tone. "It doesn't matter. And this won't work, I still have nothing to tell you."

"A different topic, then," Organa pressed on. What was she hoping to gain? Why did she keep talking? "Why do you hate Rey so much?"

"The same reason I hate any of you. You all think you can _save_ people. Kylo, me. She assumes to know me, to understand me, to understand _him_ —who is she to be a moral crusader, who is she to condemn my character and claim that I need to be rescued? Who is she, a fucking scavenger from a backwater planet, to look down on me just because she's got magic fucking powers?" Ana jerked forward, the chains yanking her back. "You have no idea what I've endured to survive. You have no idea what I've done. That little girl couldn't _fathom_ what I've suffered." She pulled again on the chains. "Now will you stop asking me these _fucking questions_."

The general tapped her cane once on the floor. "Alright. No questions, then. Just listen. You may not be a First Order soldier, or a willing participant in your plans, but the fact remains that you've killed several of our people and that makes you a threat. My top advisors want to kill you if you can't provide us with anything useful. Rey thinks you can be coerced to leave the First Order, but it seems it's about Kylo Ren, not the Order."

"And what do you think?"

"General Hux has taken prisoner a few of my officers. Major Taslin Brance, General Caluan Ematt, and most recently on Garel, Admiral Statura. If the First Order views you as an asset, they will be willing to trade you for my officers."

"A hostage exchange." T _hat won't work. Hux won't do it. Those officers are too important, they've been providing the First Order information for weeks. Hux won't, not even for me._ "Good idea."

* * *

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I hit a bit of a snag and ended up rewriting this section several times. She and Leia aren't done talking, to Ana's inevitable annoyance, but I thought this would serve to tide you all over for a while! I've also accidentally distracted myself by starting a Loki fanfiction as well which I hope to get uploaded soon.

Thanks in advance for reading and reviewing! Your support is why I keep writing!


	30. More Tricks

Ana stirred, waking gently from a sleep deeper than she thought achievable given her surroundings. After all, a cell with dirt walls wasn't exactly conducive to REM sleep—She rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her palm. Another vision? Another dream? Her heart thudded in her chest. Another trick?

She was in a large bed with rumpled sheets, the room around her well-lit from three large windows on the far wall where sunlight poured in. A bedroom, tastefully furnished, relatively mundane. Lived-in, if the piles of clothes strewn about were any indication.

"You're awake." From the doorway, Kylo stood shirtless in loose pants, rubbing a towel in his damp hair. Ana froze on the bed, running through all the possible ways he could be here—did they rescue her? Why couldn't she remember? Was this a projection? It felt real enough.

He walked over to her, smiling— _smiling_ —and kissed her forehead. "Good morning."

 _What's happening?_ She stared at him in utter disbelief. He didn't seem to notice, going to the dresser and rifling through it.

"What's going on, Kylo?" she asked.

He pulled a plain white shirt out of the drawer and his smile turned teasing. "I'm getting dressed, what does it look like?" He hesitated, the shirt in his hand, and smirked at her. "Unless of course you'd prefer me a little less so?" Kylo's eyes were so familiar with that desire-filled gaze, locking his mouth with hers and pushing her back onto the bed. "My insatiable little minx."

Her hands flit about his body, pressing hard here and there to test if he was real. It was _so hard to tell these days_ —

He growled into her mouth, hiking her leg around his hip, and she pulled away from him to breathe.

"Where are we?" she asked, the questions tumbling form her mouth. "Why aren't we on the Finalizer?"

Kylo frowned above her, the sexual energy fizzling, and he put a gentle hand on her forehead. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Where is this, Kylo? This isn't your room on the ship, so _where are we_ and where is Hux—"

Now he looked genuinely concerned, getting off of her and pulling her into a sitting position, kneeling on the floor to search her eyes. "We're home, of course. Did you have another nightmare?"

"Home?" Ana stood on shaky limbs and went to the windows. Outside was green and sunny, a vast lake in the distance, and farther beyond that the silhouette of a building she recognized from the First Order database.

"The royal palace," she muttered. "We're on Naboo?"

"Ana." Kylo's voice rumbled in his chest. "Talk to me."

"When did you get me back from the Resistance? What happened? Did Hux agree to the hostage exchange?" Why couldn't she remember anything? Why was he acting like...like _this_?

Understanding flitted across Kylo's rough face. "I see. That's what your nightmare was about this time. Ana, darling, that was years ago."

 _Years?_ He did look older, now that she was paying attention. More serious. A drastic change from the petulant, angry boy who kissed her like she belonged to him. Suddenly, he had more control. _Trick_ , she decided, but the longer she tried to focus on what Kylo called her "nightmare," on what she was convinced was the real world, the more fuzzy the details became until she was doubting herself.

"Ana?"

"Sorry," she murmured, giving him a faint smile. "I...I don't know what's wrong with me."

He gave a relieved answering smile. "You always come back to me. It'll fade again soon enough. I know our time with the First Order is still...raw for you."

"And it's not for you?" she snapped.

A flash of irritation hit his eyes—finally, a familiar expression—and he forced it down. "You know how hard I've worked to overcome that. For you."

"For me," she intoned numbly.

He smiled at her again and dragged his thumb across her bottom lip before kissing her. She dug her nails into her palm, hands balled into fists, thinking the pain would pull her into clarity. Either it was real, or that wasn't enough pain. A small, hopeful voice in her head chimed, _but what if this is real? Would this be so bad?_

 _And what, I'm just so traumatized that I don't remember the outcome of their war? Or the dissolution of the First Order? Or the fact that I'm apparently living in domestic bliss with one of the most violent men in the cosmos?_

Sure, this was a bit suspicious, but maybe he was right, maybe he was capable of growth. He was still acting similar enough to himself, and if this was Arden again she would have yanked the rug under her by now, or shown her his bleeding body, or _something_ —

"Are you sure you're alright?" Kylo asked, his hand touching her hair with a foreign gentleness.

"I'm fine." She couldn't even remember what her nightmare had been about, it was all so fuzzy and felt so far away.

He gave her forehead another light peck. "Good. I thought we could take Maris and go to the lake today."

Ana froze. Maris? She was about to ask, when as if on cue the sound of a baby crying filtered through the open bedroom door.

"I'll get her," Kylo said, but Ana was barely listening.

A sharp pain speared through her chest; she felt like she'd been doused in cold water.

"Ana?"

"There can't be a baby," she said, not really talking to Kylo in particular, her voice shocked into monotone.

"Ana, come back to me,"

The voice pleading for her was still Kylo, but it was coming from outside of the room.

"There can't be a baby," she said again, a hollow ache in her chest. "I can't have them."

 _Come back to me, nova_.

Everything shattered.

Kylo fell to pieces like a broken china doll, the bedroom in the house on Naboo dissolving into nothing. Ana inhaled for the first time in what felt like hours.

"Trick," she said quietly. "I was right."

She was still in her cell. Still chained. The voice that had called her nova, that had been the true Kylo. _Her_ Kylo.

Someone had crawled into her mind while she slept and tried to manipulate her, but to what end? There hadn't been any kind of play for information. What did they get out of it by making her believe some fake domestic existence with Kylo?

"A test. Some research. Perhaps some insight into Ben himself." _There was that name again, that_ _fucking name_ — "But you broke free sooner than anticipated." An older man with grey hair and aged blue eyes—and a face in desperate need of a shave—shrugged. He stood inside her cell, the bars to his back. "It would have gone on for much longer."

She clucked her tongue. "Should've researched your subject more thoroughly." Here, she gave a bitter smile. "Then you'd have known I'm sterile."

The man said nothing.

"Plus, really," she said next, clearing her throat and trying to push her discomfort aside. "Do you know Kylo at all? No one in their right mind would ever believe he'd turn out so stable in just a few years."

"I suppose not." The intense blue gaze stared at her intently. "He helped you break free. Somehow, he sensed your distress through the Force and he called for you." He was trying to dissect her, she could tell. "Something about you with him is dangerous. I can't pinpoint what, exactly, but I will."

"Well it won't be the creation of any Force-sensitive bastards." She kept her glare unflinching, unwavering, ignoring the pain of the memory. Of being reminded what she lacked. Ghrrik couldn't afford one of his top girls getting knocked up and being out of commission for months on end. Pregnancy was bad for business.

The man dissolved, Ana's mouth dry, and she wondered with deadpan humor if the whole thing had been a dehydration dream. Footsteps signaled the appearance of someone else—a real person this time, she hoped—and Dameron appeared. Instead of his usual scowl, his face was carefully neutral.

"Brought you some water," he said.

She expected him to open the cell and come in, immediately running through all the options—the chains limited her some, but she had already figured out how far the chains would allow her to go, if he took more than three steps in she could reach him—but he didn't. He threw a canteen at her through the bars. She caught it and recovered quickly, unscrewing the cap.

"My hero," she said dryly, and took a long drink.

 _Nova._

Kylo's voice was so quiet, so distant, she had to strain to hear it. She stopped, the water sloshing in the canteen and nearly drowning him out. Where could she be that would put her so far away? Even on Corellia, an entire star system between them, she had heard him clearly.

 _Nova, where...can you…_

 _I'm here, Kylo, come and get me already, dammit._

"What are you doing?"

Ana's eyes flicked to the pilot. "You're still _here,_ flyboy?" _Be quiet, go away, I can't hear Kylo._

"Have you ever been to Yavin 4?" Dameron said. "I grew up there."

"Good for you." Kylo's voice was gone and Ana cursed, throwing the empty canteen back at Dameron.

"It's so green there, entire rainforests of Massassi trees. My mom had a garden of orchids. Yavin 4 has a special species of them, bioluminescent, because with the trees so dense it was hard to grow anything else. I gave one to a girl I was sweet on once."

"Are you going to bore me to death?"

"Just making conversation."

" _Why_?"

"It's not like you ever talk about anything."

"So this is some kind of new tactic?" She rolled her eyes. "Or is it a quiz to see if the First Order has something going on in Yavin 4? I've never been there. I've never been anywhere that green."

"Where did you grow up?"

"Are you _always_ this annoyingly persistent?"

Dameron shrugged. "You told Leia you hate us for presuming to understand you. So I'm trying to understand. Help me understand how you ended up here."

"You lot kidnapped me, _that's_ how I got here," she said. "And Kylo kidnapped me from Coruscant. Got the kind of face everybody wants to kidnap."

"So you're from Coruscant?"

"I'm not _from_ anywhere, I was just on Coruscant for a bit, that's all."

"Got any family?"

"No," she growled, her patience thinning. "How about you, flyboy? Hiding a wife and kids in that cockpit?"

"No wife, no kids. Mom died when I was young."

"And your dad? Alive and well and proud, I'm sure," she said with sarcasm.

"I haven't been able to contact him in a few months, but I imagine so." A muscle worked in his jaw, his whole body tense.

Ana's lip curled in a snarl. "How _nice_ for you."

"Your parents are dead?" he asked, his cocky tone dimmed down because of the subject matter.

" _No_ , they're on vacation on Spira. What do you _want_?"

"I told you, I just want to know you. No siblings?"

"Only child."

"Grandparents? Friends?"

"Dead and dead, next?"

Dameron was growing frustrated with her lack of cooperation, she could tell by his pursed lips. "You're not even trying," he said quietly. Two armed guards came in, blasters drawn. "Don't be difficult. General Hux has demanded to see you before he'll agree to any talks."

Ana's heart thudded in her chest. "He's here?"

"Don't be stupid," Dameron said, unlocking her cell. "He's on the holo-screen in our control center."

Why would he ask to see her? He wasn't going to agree to the talks, he would never get permission from Snoke to hand over the Resistance officers.

 _He's planning a rescue,_ she thought. _Just sit tight, observe as much as you can. They're coming for you._

But that was a stupid thought, Hux mounting a full-scale rescue for one girl. She was in this on her own. But maybe, this would provide her another chance at escape. The pilot stepped into her cage and unlocked her chains from the floor, keeping them securely attached to her wrists.

"No funny business," he said, his eyes on level with hers.

She could wrap the chain around his neck, use his body as a shield in case the guards fired, _surely_ the Resistance didn't want to lose one of their top precious pilots—

"I'd never," she said, smiling, and let him pull her to her feet.


	31. Escape

They had apparently, _unfortunately_ , learned their lesson the last time. She implemented her plan about halfway up the stairs, locking her chains in a chokehold around Dameron's neck and backing away from the armed guards, but at the top of the stairs she was met by four more armed Resistance men. One in particular seemed all-too-happy to hit her with the butt of his blaster, and Dameron stepped away from her, twisting her chains until she gritted her teeth in pain. Her lip was badly split and dripping blood when they arrived through the compound to the Resistance command center. Organa stood, surrounded by advisors, before a large circular piece of technology. The tech was displaying a full-body, holographic projection of General Hux, who was frowning with his hands stiffly behind his back.

"I've brought her, General Organa," said Dameron, depositing her in front of the general.

Organa raised her eyebrows at Ana's appearance. "She gave you trouble, evidently."

"You claimed she was unhurt," Hux hissed. "Why is she bleeding?"

"I strangled flyboy here and tried to use him as a human shield." Ana shrugged, her tongue swiping out to lick the blood from her lip. Even through the pixelated hologram, she could see his own mouth twitch as he fought a smile. _I hate to say this, but I've missed you, Hux._

"Miss Tam." His voice was calm and controlled now. "How are you faring?"

"Besides the lip? They've got me in fucking chains, Armitage. You know how I get when I'm tied down. Be a dear and agree to the exchange, won't you?" She knew he wouldn't, but the act, the false bravado, was for the Resistance. She assumed that he was tracking their signal, narrowing their location, so she did her best to buy him some time. "Where's my favorite masked wonder?"

A few Resistance members exchanged glances. Would Kylo Ren make an appearance at the negotiation for the safe return of a _girl_?

Even through the hologram she could see Hux's jaw set. "He's needed elsewhere," he said. "His message was that should anyone harm her, he will pull them apart piece by piece and scatter them across the galaxy."

Ana felt a smile tug at her lips. "What a charmer. Shall you tell him of my lip, or shall I?" She resisted the urge to cackle and reveled in the way the faces of several men in the room paled.

"You've seen she is safe, General Hux," said Organa. "Can we discuss the matter at hand now?"

Dameron grabbed hold of Ana's arm to lead her away, and Hux's next words were uttered in a near growl: "She stays."

 _Careful, Hux. Don't let them see quite how much I matter to you._

But Dameron was already glancing between her and the general with a look of suspicion, allowing his hand to drop.

"Is that really necessary?" asked Organa, her expression careful. "We would feel more secure with her back in her cell."

Hux's frown deepend. "She _stays_."

"I'll behave," said Ana, fighting hard not to roll her eyes. _I guess I can't blame them. Flyboy's throat may have a bruise later._ She couldn't resist messing with them just a _little_ more though, and lowered her voice to a purr. "Won't I, _Poe_?"

The pilot's spine went rigid, but she didn't miss the slight tremor in his body. Hux, on the other hand, looked _pissed_.

" _Ana_ ," he snapped low, forgetting himself.

Concern stabbed her gut. She hadn't meant to break his mask, didn't he have more control than that? She had to keep up the act, she had to make them think this was normal for her and Hux. His use of her name could put all the eggs in the Resistance basket—

"Just trying to make friends." Ana shrugged again, her chest tight. She truly had missed Hux. _Isn't_ _that_ _a scary thought?_

"Can we get back to the matter at hand, General?"

Hux tore his eyes from Ana. "Am I to understand your request correctly, Organa? You wish to exchange three of your key players for only one of mine?" He clucked his tongue. "That's not very good strategy, now is it?"

"It wouldn't be," Organa admitted, "if you didn't seem so keen on getting yours back."

"Here's the difference between yours and mine, _General_ ," Hux spit back the title as though it sickened him. "Mine has already tried to escape, has she not? She's probably got a plan in the event our talks should fail. While _yours_ ," here his lips curled into a cruel smile, "have all rolled over and shown their bellies like whipped dogs."

"Bastard," Dameron muttered under his breath.

"You have no idea," Ana whispered back, leaning toward him in a conspiratory manner.

"If you weren't going to agree to my terms, what is this little meeting even for?" The frustration was evident in Organa's voice.

"Now, now, is this how a princess negotiates?" Hux straightened his shoulders, confident and powerful. He regarded her for a minute through the hologram. "Major Brance, then."

There was a murmur around the room.

"It's a logical exchange," Hux continued. "We've had him the longest. He's in the...worst shape, so to speak. We will exchange Major Brance for Miss Tam."

Ana could see how Snoke would agree to that and pushed down the urge to shudder; they were probably through with him. It'd been months since they'd captured him on Rinn. Her shoulder ached with a dull, phantom pain at the memory of being shot.

"Not good enough, I'm afraid. Indeed you've had him the longest. I expected Major Brance to be a given."

Anger flashed across Hux's eyes. "You presume much, don't you?"

"You'll have to do better, General Hux."

That was it then. Talks were over. She couldn't imagine how hard he'd had to fight for permission to give up Brance—Snoke wouldn't have wanted to give the Resistance an _inch_ —there was no way he had anything more to offer.

"Major Brance and General Ematt, then."

Ana kept her face carefully blank. There was no way, _Hux, what are you doing—_

"We are not prepared to give up the admiral," Hux went on, not even giving Organa time to react. "This is our final offer."

He didn't have permission to give up two prisoners, she was sure of it. _Hux, don't do this, not for me. I'll be fine._ Organa exchanged glances with one of her advisors, who leaned over to whisper something in her ear. It was clear to them that they hadn't expected to get back all three prisoners. Just the fact that Hux was negotiating _at all_ was a surprise—

"I'm not happy about this," Organa said. "But I recognize the terms as...acceptable." She flinched. The room seemed to be split, with Dameron himself shaking at Ana's side. "We will send the coordinates for the rendevous."

"Very well. And, General," Hux's eyes flicked oh-so-briefly back to Ana, "if she has anything worse when our medics look her over, you can be sure that Admiral Statura will not survive his time with us."

* * *

The hostage exchange was to happen on Wrea. Ana wished that Hux would have given her more time, had had more faith in her. She hadn't expected him to cave so easily. Within hours the plans had been solidified, and Dameron had come to retrieve her yet again from her cell.

"Sad to see me go?" she said with a wry smile. "We were just starting to bond, too."

"I don't understand how someone like you lets yourself get wrapped up with the First Order." He shook his head, coming into her cell.

"It helps that I wasn't given an option." She watched his face. "You, on the other hand, I can understand _perfectly_."

 _Be ready, nova._

She fought hard not to react, not to show the elation that came when she heard Kylo's voice in her head.

Dameron had just unchained her from the floor when the first explosion rocked the base.

"What the—"

Ana reacted like a shot, her knee coming up to make contact with his stomach. He lurched over and she swiped his blaster from its holster, the keys from his hand. While he coughed and tried to recover, she was out of the cell, locking him inside.

"Sit tight, flyboy," she said, breathless. "That call is for me."

"Why not just kill me?" he wheezed.

She hesitated just long enough to throw him a smile. "Because when you were sweet on a girl once, you gave her a Nebula orchid."

She blew him a kiss, unlocking her handcuffs and tossing them at him through the bars, and then dropped the keys just outside the door. Moments after, she was above ground again.

The base was in a tizzy. The explosion had been one of their ships blowing, the burning wreckage drawing the large crowd. Ana snuck away from the door to her prison, waiting for the telltale sound of TIE fighters—

 _Hux wanted to go a little more subtle this go around, nova._

 _Kylo._ She couldn't fight the relief she felt at his presence. _You're here._

 _We landed cloaked a few hundred feet away. Glad to see you used our diversion as intended. Meet me east, Hux will bring the shuttle to pick us up._

She was off into a run away from the base, finding his familiar form just over the crest of a hill. He stood waiting for her, his hand outstretched, and she was half-tempted to shoot her own leg with the blaster just to make sure this was all really _real_ —

"I thought I sensed you, Ben."

 _No, no, no,_ Ana thought, whirling around in anger. _She ruins_ _everything_ —

" _Scavenger_."

"Stop this, Ben." Rey ignored her, an act that only pissed Ana off more. She wasn't supposed to _be here_ , ruining this reunion, this was supposed to be _her moment_ , where he finally admitted he cared enough to _rescue her_ — "Your mother wants you home."

Ana looked to Kylo, her expression furious— _Kylo, can you believe this bitch—_ only to find he was shaking. His entire form was trembling, unmasked eyes locked on the girl. His words echoed at her: " _I feel the call to the Light, when I see her."_

Something inside her snapped. "Oh, fuck this," she said, and she fired Dameron's blaster at the Jedi girl.

"Ana!" Kylo said sharply, but of course it missed the girl.

"Again," she hissed. "So much _concern_ for your _enemy_." She launched herself at the girl, furious at how _fucking affected he always seemed to be—_

"I'm not here to fight you." The girl's brow furrowed.

"Then hold still, this'll be fun." She threw a punch, the girl ducked under; the girl went for the staff strapped to her back and Ana spun, locking it around her neck. Without her lightsaber, which the girl foolishly didn't seem to have on her, the fight was much more fair.

"Your master visited me earlier," Ana spat. "I am _sick_ of you all poking and prodding at me— _underestimating_ me—"

The Jedi gained leverage and threw Ana onto the ground.

 _Any time you want to join in, Kylo!_

She lobbed her frantic thought at him, but he didn't seem to want to move. For a long time it was just her and the scavenger, dancing around each other, equally matched though Ana was so much _angrier_. Then suddenly, Kylo was beside her, lightsaber drawn, and Ana exhaled heavily. He swung at the girl, missed, but it forced her back toward Ana, who knocked her to her knees with a hearty kick. He was helping but he wasn't focused, he wasn't truly _present_ —

The scavenger could only focus on one of them at a time, especially without her saber, especially with Kylo's red blade making her sweat. She shifted her focus to Kylo entirely just in time to send him flying back with a thrust of her hand, his lightsaber dropping to the muddy ground and deactivating. She didn't even see the shot from the blaster coming. Ana's hand was steady when she fired the shot, watching the girl's body crumple, but as she knelt next to her form she could see the bitch's chest still moved up and down with her breath.

She checked Dameron's blaster and cursed, chucking it away. They definitely had learned their lesson, she thought for the second time: he'd swapped out his very-real, very-deadly weapon for a stun-gun-only. She was so close to killing the scavenger. She reached for the girl's throat, pale and unprotected—

"Ana, let's go."

Her hand hesitated inches from the girl's neck. "Go?"

"Hux will be waiting. Killing her isn't the goal of this mission."

"Isn't the goal," she repeated numbly. "Don't you see? It's a bonus." She stood, her voice dead, and turned to face him. His gaze was on the scavenger— _always on the scavenger_ —with an unreadable expression, but when he dragged his eyes up to her, something shifted.

She cocked her head to the side, confused by his shocked, almost abhorrent expression, and it was then she realized she was crying. Gently, with no sounds or effort, the tears fell as easily from her eyes as if nothing were happening at all. She picked his lightsaber up from the ground and for a moment she just stared at it. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Give that to me, nova." His voice was firm but surprisingly soft.

She shook her head slowly. "Elek is dead, Thena despises me. I don't even remember who I used to be anymore. You took almost everything from me. I _gave_ everything that was left. So why," her hand tightened around the lightsaber, "do you still look at her so much?"

He was standing in front of her now, had moved his large body to her to take his saber back, and he wasn't listening, he wasn't—

Her thumb found the switch and the lightsaber ignited, punching a hole through his broad shoulder and impaling him, missing anything vital by a mile but he howled in pain regardless. Why couldn't she have moved it lower, struck his heart, or moved it higher and sliced his neck? Why was she still so incapable of killing him? He dropped to his knees, clutching his injury, and he looked up at her and held out his other hand.

"Give me the lightsaber, nova," he said through clenched teeth, his breath hissing as he inhaled.

Her anger and pain bubbled to the surface, destroying the cool mask she wore. "Stop calling me that!" she shrieked, and she delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to his head.

He dropped like a rock, unconscious, but she didn't let her victory sink in. She had failed, gone easy on him even now, and he could have stopped her but didn't, and that didn't sit right with her. She turned back to the girl, the blasted girl, that fucking girl, and ignited the saber again. But then there was shouting, there were bodies running for them, blaster shots whizzing past her ear as the rest of the Resistance finally noticed their prisoner had escaped. She gave one last disgusted glance to the girl, one last wavering pause at Kylo, and turned to run. First, she would space the lightsaber. Chuck it into the abyss, into the vacuum where it belonged. Then she'd go to Ossus, find the talisman, and with its power she'd kill them all. Ren, the sand bitch, Snoke. All of them.

It was pouring down rain when she found Hux's shuttle, her chest heaving with her breaths. Hux was staring at her, mouth agape, looking behind her for the black swishing form of Kylo.

"Where is he?"

"He fell behind. You might want to go get him." She breezed past him, ignoring the panicked look on Hux's face. "Or you really will have to do a hostage exchange."

He barked orders at the men he'd brought with him in the transport. She ignored them, walking up the ramp into the shuttle.

"Ana!" he shouted, voice hoarse, and then he was on the boarding ramp after her.

She was already punching in the codes, the ship whirring to life, when he grabbed her arm.

"What was that?" he hissed. "Where do you think you're going?"

Ana almost groaned in frustration. She needed him off the ship, she couldn't bring him with her to Ossus, he'd never understand, he'd call Snoke, he'd call _Kylo_ —

She kissed him, surging forward impulsively, and with a short groan he was reciprocating. It almost shocked her, the ease in which he melted against her, and she pushed back a wave of guilt. She walked him backwards and he went willingly, his hands in her hair. When they reached the start of the boarding ramp, she separated from him, cursing herself for actually feeling breathless.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her hands sliding up his chest.

The guilt rushed forward again when he reached to cover her hands with his own, but she didn't let it distract her. _Couldn't_ let it distract her. Then she pushed him back.

He went tumbling down the ramp, looking up at her with a mix of anger and betrayal, but she had already slammed her palm against the button to shut the door on him.

" _Ana!_ "

She sat down in the pilot's chair, his voice muffled through the layers of metal—she was surprised she could hear it at all, surprised his voice was that strong—and found Ossus in the ship's coordinate bank.

* * *

A/N: Hey pretties! Thanks again for reading and reviewing. I wasn't quite happy with how I left last chapter and thought, since it's been so long since my previous update that you all deserved a special treat! Kylo has really done a number on our girl's emotions, hasn't he? I've got plenty more in store for them!

Also, if any of you like Marvel, I'm still cleaning up my first Loki/OC fanfiction so stay tuned for that as well!


	32. Darkness

" _You still couldn't kill him, you little wretch."_

Ana stared down at the hunk of metal in her hand, turning it over and over until she had memorized every dent, every smudge, every piece on Kylo Ren's lightsaber. She hadn't spaced it— _she would_ , she promised herself, after this mission, after the talisman was hers, _she would_ —and Arden's insistent voice considered that action as much of a failure as her inability to kill him. But she wasn't keeping it for sentimental reasons, she argued. She wasn't keeping it because of the man it reminded her of. She wasn't keeping it because of the small thrill she got realizing she had stripped him of the one item that gave him his identity, now that he'd gotten rid of his mask. She was keeping it because every glance she spared it renewed her rage, and her rage would fuel her until she obtained the Kashi Mer talisman. And then she wouldn't just space it, she'd _crush it_ in her bare hands and space its broken, useless parts. She would _utterly destroy it_.

Ossus spread out before her, welcoming and wide. Ana could see the sections of the planet still coated in the thick, discolored clouds of chemical storms. They pulsed and flashed across about two-thirds of the planet, and she realized she didn't have a backup plan in case the building she was searching for—the ruins of the Great Jedi Library, if the First Order's historical account was to be believed—was in the heart of one of the storms. She let the shuttle's autopilot take her down, relieved when it simply skirted around the edge of one of the storms.

" _I told you, I already searched Ossus."_

"How many years ago was that," Ana mumbled as she prepared to disembark the shuttle. The air was relatively clear, though the sky was a sickly orange hue. _These voices in my mind are starting to really grate on me…_

She supposed, in a strange sort of way, she was grateful for the First Order's borderline-obsessive thoroughness. Their database, ironically enough, had been indispensable in enacting this part of her plan. She let a dry grin form on her lips. The shuttle's autopilot had dropped right on the doorstep of the library ruins. The fragments of the building were almost exactly as her dreams, her visions, had shown her. Its large entry doors stood tall and relatively undamaged by time, despite the crumbling stairs that led to them. From her vantage at the top it was clear that at one time there had been several buildings, clustered together on what was clearly a mountaintop. There were a few signs of fauna, nothing to the extent of her dreams, and close by, without tree cover, she could see the seam of a great canyon.

Ana approached the doors with baited breath, Kylo's lightsaber heavy on her hip—her dreams had never gone past the door—and laid her palms flat against the stone. It was cool and rough to the touch, the texture biting the soft pads of her fingertips as she dragged them slowly down until they were level with the wide, horizontal "handles." She exhaled, flexed her fingers, and pushed.

She squeezed her eyes shut, convinced that when she opened them she would wake in the _Finalizer_ , in her cell, back on the shuttle—peeking through one eye, she could see the floor was covered in dirt and rocks, weeks poking up through cracks in the stone. _Still awake._

She opened both eyes and stepped in.

The first room was wide and open, with a high ceiling that had partially caved in, and the strange tinted sunlight filtered down, little dust flecks drifting in and out of the beam. There were a few open doorways on either side of the room, one blocked by fallen debris, and another large stone door at the far end. That was the direction she moved in first, leaning with her body to open the second door. It revealed a set of steps that descended into darkness, and she followed them down.

The subfloors felt like a maze, she thought, turning a corner at one point to realize— _I've definitely passed by that exact wall crack twice before_. They were probably designed this way on purpose as a way of protecting the library's knowledge while still maintaining the illusion of open accessibility. How very _Jedi_.

Any rooms still intact were quite empty. What few physical items and tomes still remained had all but rotted after centuries of neglect and non-use, to the point where Ana was too afraid to really touch them; the one she _did_ disintegrated against her fingertips, breaking like brittle leaves before crumbling to nothing. She knew there was meant to be a vault on one of the subfloors, the report in the First Order's systems had stated as much, and teams of archaeologists had confirmed its existence but there was no official paperwork to indicate they'd gone so far as to open it. Any blueprints or schematics on the building seemed unreliable at best, fake and forged by an unknown party at worst. For example, one of the prints she had managed to find stated that this exact spot should contain another doorway that led to the hallway with the vault, but there was just a wall. A damaged wall, but still a wall.

She turned away with a sigh, but at the ending wisp of her breath, she heard the whispers again. She stopped, her footstep echoing, but the voices didn't. Moving back to the wall meant the whispers were stronger, as if they were flowing through the breaks in the stonework. Ana pressed her ear against one spot where a chunk had fallen and the whispers paused. She waited.

"Here," something breathed into her ear, so sudden that Ana yelped and stumbled back on her ass.

The stone was fragile and unmaintained, so while it took some effort, she managed to use another rock to widen the hole and peer through it. There, on the other side, another hall. Just like the plans had said. But how to get through—

Ana paused, remembering the weight at her side. Perhaps she could get some use out of it, she reasoned. She led with her mechanical arm as she ignited the saber, using all her strength to cut a square in the stone big enough to fit through. On the other side of the wall, in the new hall, the voices started again. She followed them to another door, thrown wide open, and at the room's center was a pedestal. She flinched as the whispering grew in volume until they were nearly unbearable, blending together like static, and she nearly tripped on the body.

The whispers stopped.

"Durrei," said Arden at her shoulder, though when Ana looked no one was there.

The body had very clearly been there for years, decayed down to bones and tattered clothes. She wondered briefly how he died, so far from everything. Alone.

A scene filled her mind, a memory as clear as if it were her own. A betrayal. Succumbing to injuries after a narrow escape. A male voice: _Do not let the artifact fall into their hands. Take it. Use what they desire most against them._ * Her foot nudged one of his skeletal hands and the finger bones fell away, and then she saw it. The grey prism, just there, like any other unassuming stone. If you didn't know what you were looking for, you wouldn't even notice it there. She bent to pick it up, closing her hand around it, and—

The stone was cold in her grasp, like holding a block of ice. The chill crept up her arm, her chest, her neck. That was when the darkness came. She thought it was a trick of the light, the way the shadows seemed to grow around the edges of the stone in her hand. Then they were twisting and writhing and growing, traveling along her skin where the coldness had spread like a live thing. Fear hit her hard and she let the talisman go—except it didn't go anywhere and the shadows were expanding.

"Accept us," the darkness hissed, its voice high and feminine. " _We_ accept _you_." Now low, masculine, _familiar_ —Then the darkness covered her eyes and slipped down her throat and she was drowning in it.

* * *

"Careful," came a woman's voice, soothing and warm. "Breathe slowly."

Ana inhaled, eyes opening to see nothing but black, and promptly wretched. A hand stroked her back comfortingly.

"Easy," said the voice again. "Breathe."

The woman coaxed her through it as she vomited ink-black liquid that stung her lips. Ana rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand and let her eyes focus on the woman. She was in her late thirties, with hooded hazel eyes and sun-lightened blonde hair, and wore a plain blue dress.

"Where am I?" Ana glanced around. There was still nothing, a featureless nothing, as if she were floating in space with no stars. Just her and the woman.

"In between." The woman smiled but didn't elaborate.

"And you are?" She was still so cold.

Her smile faltered. "You wouldn't recognize me, would you? My name is Maris Tam."

Ana felt sick again. "Is this another trick? If you tell me you're the grown version of my daughter from that fucking head-space manipulation—"

The woman, _Maris_ , frowned. "What? You named your daughter after me?"

"I don't _have_ a daughter, it was some disgusting Jedi mindfuck—"

Maris hushed her, still frowning. "I'm not your daughter, Vexi." The nickname was new, felt foreign. "I'm your mother."

"My…" Ana stared, her mind running a thousand rounds a minute. Luke had pulled the name from a deep part of her subconscious and she felt exposed. More than that, she was immediately suspicious, thought she couldn't figure out a way that anyone capable of another Force trick would be able to reach her. Or what they could hope to gain.

"You don't believe me." Maris smiled sadly. "What did your father tell you about when I left?"

"Nothing." Ana gritted her teeth, still not quite believing this was actually her mother— "Grandmother said you died. After I was born. That you were a breeder, not a mother, and I would do better to forget you ever existed."

"Of course she did." Maris chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Just like Cora, demonizing me. I'm surprised Alen let her."

"He was dead by that point," Ana said dryly, and a look of despair passed over Maris's face. "And before that it wasn't like he had much of a mind left to dispute her."

"My poor Alen." Maris sighed. "I stayed until you were almost four, actually."

"Am I supposed to be grateful you were there that long?"

"If I'd known he had died, I would have come back for you," she murmured. "You must have suffered with Cora."

"That's not important." Ana rubbed her temples. "What is this?"

"I tried to keep you from this." Maris stood, looking off into the blackness as if she could see something Ana couldn't. "That's why I left."

"Where is _this, Mama?_ " The old childish voice of her youth took over for just a moment, and she remembered her father: " _Your mama didn't need a king either."_

Maris looked at her in surprise. "Vexi," she said again, softly. "We're in the darkness."

"I can _see that_ —"

"No," Maris shook her head, "the _Darkness_. We are _within_ the energy that the Jedi call the Dark Side of the Force."

Ana barked out a laugh. "The Dark Side is supposed to be about power, not nothingness, not—"

"It will be about power." Maris took her lip between her teeth as she observed her daughter. "Power so consuming that you will feel it in every cell of your body. That's what you asked for, isn't it? That's what you're searching for. But not yet." She held out her hand to Ana. "I'm giving you the chance to turn back, Vexi."

" _Why_ would I want to do that?" She'd come so far, worked so hard, _suffered so much_ —

"This talisman, trying to harness the Dark—it will consume you." Maris offered another melancholy smile, and there was something so familiar about her expression, like Ana had seen it a thousand times somewhere long ago. She dropped her hand. "Did you never wonder why Cora, your grandmother, hated me so? She trained you, didn't she, in her anti-Jedi techniques? I know the spirit of Arden Lyn has been urging you forward too in your quest for the Kashi Mer talisman. Tell me, Vexi, what reason would Cora have for telling you I died?"

"You were what she hated," Ana said, her voice quiet with realization. "You were a Jedi."

"That's my girl. Smart as a whip." Maris's smile turned wistful. "I was still in training when I met your father. Quite the pilot back then, very talented. A bit too fond of his brandy, perhaps, but I thought if I gave him time, if I gave him a family, that would change. For a bit, it did. He _doted_ over you as a baby. Poured all his brandy down the sink the night you were born and sang you to sleep. I'd never loved him more."

"You _left him_."

"I did." The woman nodded. "I had given up my training for the two of you, but there were things I still wanted to do. Ambitions I still had that wouldn't let up, and I knew I couldn't drag you two into it. Especially since you hadn't shown any connection to the Force. I couldn't ask that of you."

"So where are you now? How are you reaching me now? Have you been on Ossus this whole time?" Ana sprung to her feet. "You think you can just _appear_ after nearly twenty years and suddenly _parent me_?"

"I'm not on Ossus, Vexi. I'm here." Maris gestured outwards. "I'm in the Darkness. Have been for…" Her brow furrowed. "How old are you now? Surely you're not twenty-four already…"

"What do you mean you're in the Darkness?"

"I told you," she said vaguely, "that power is consuming."

"I'm stronger than you. I'm stronger than _them_ ," she spat, picturing Arden, picturing her grandmother. "I can handle it. More than that, _I deserve it._ "

"I can't stop you, can I?" Maris murmured.

" _No._ But you can tell Arden to leave me alone, I'm sick of that bitch's critiques—and if you're one with the Force tell Darth Vader he can go fuck himself for ruining Daddy's favorite story—" Her throat was tight with emotion. "For not being Force-sensitive I'm certainly popular, aren't I?"

"You have a bond with someone who is strong with it. There's always a level of...bleed-through. And you were already so receptive." Maris reached for her again. "When you were little I would give you dreams. I let you travel the galaxy as you slept, sent you to every planet I had ever seen. I wanted you to see the universe." Her arms were open, and a small, vulnerable part of Ana wanted to fold herself up in them.

There were so many things she wanted to say, so many questions, so much to know.

"I'm not going anywhere, Vexi. Especially if you want to continue on this path. I'll be right here."

Ana took a shaky step forward, toward her mother's offered embrace.

"I'm sorry," said Maris, but as Ana finally reached for her, she faded away. " _Whenever you need me, from now on, I'll be right here."_

The shadows covered her again but it wasn't threatening; it was more like a blanket, caressing instead of smothering. They absorbed into her skin, and as they came into her she felt her strength rising. As they filled her, they cleared away from her surroundings like smoke being blown away, until the room around her—the subfloor in the Jedi Library, the room in Ossus—reappeared. With one new addition.

Ana looked at the figure in the doorway, her chest heaving, her eyesight sharper than ever before.

"Ana." He spoke her name like a prayer. She wasn't surprised to see him; at first, she thought he had reached her rather unrealistically fast, but she had the sudden thought that her time in the shadows, her strange trance, had actually been _weeks_. There was no fear, not of this realization and not of him. How could she be afraid of him? She was _more_ than he was now. The weight of the Kashi Mer talisman returned to her hand, his lightsaber still strapped at her hip, and her body thrummed with new power. He was staring at her with a strange, pained expression, almost as if _he_ were afraid of _her_.

 _He should be_ , she thought victoriously. _I am powerful. I will be his wreckoning._ She thought of the sand girl. _I will be his Darkness._

Ana gave him a wide, brilliant smile. "Hello, Kylo."

* * *

A/N: *Source: Relic, written by George R. Strayton published in Star Wars Adventure Journal 6 (He also created Durrei, and since I copied Durrei's quote directly, I thought it only right to cite the original!)

Does anyone have any thoughts on Ana's newfound strength? What will be her next step? Read on to find out! We're fast approaching the final arc of her story. As always, I am so appreciative and thankful for all of you who read/review/favorite/follow! Please let me know what you thought of this new chapter!


	33. Pawn to D6

"Is that all you have to say?" Kylo asked her. He was still hovering in the doorway, not approaching, as if he could sense the unbalanced dynamic between them.

"Oh, I've got _plenty_ to say," Ana purred, gleeful and triumphant. She slipped the talisman into her pocket, resolving to attach it to a cord at some point in the near future. "I'm not fond of repeating myself, however, so why don't we go get Hux and have us a little meeting?"

"Did you stab him as well?" Kylo snapped facetiously. His eyes landed on his lightsaber and her grin widened. _I'll make him hurt._

"I think Hux rather got the better half of my departure." She sent him the image of her lips pressed to the general, letting her mind linger on the feel of his mouth and warmth of his fingertips, and she felt his anger rise in response. "Or are you claiming I owe you answers _because_ I stabbed you?"

"Do you have any idea," he said, only now stepping toward her, "how it felt to wake up on a trooper transport and find you gone again? Hux said you stole his shuttle. We didn't know where you'd gone or why. Everything we'd done had been for _you_ , Ana."

Ana's lip curled in a snarl. "Everything _Hux_ had done was for me." She shook her head. "How did you find me? I made sure the shuttle didn't have a tracker in it this time. Fool me once, you know."

He looked confused, his vulnerability spiking once again. "You...You don't know?"

"Why would I know, Kylo?"

There was a level of uncertainty, of hesitation, in his next words. "You...Ana, you called for me."

"I what?"

"You appeared to me. You showed me this place, where you were." He stopped before he reached her, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His eyes searched her face. "I could see everything, like we were connected. Don't you understand the significance of this? We're bonded. This proves it, Ana, I was meant to discover you on Coruscant. Something is drawing us together."

She fought her initial urge to laugh when she saw how seriously he meant it. Even if she had somehow subconsciously reached for him when she connected to the Kashi Mer talisman, he was so sure of the deeper meaning.

"What about your master?" she asked. "He won't be happy."

"I'll explain it to him." Kylo took another staggering, hesitant step toward her. "He'll see how important you are, how powerful we are together."

"What about the _scavenger_?" Ana tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, she truly tried.

"She's nothing," said Kylo, and oh how long she had been waiting to hear those exact words— "You've always been different from her, Ana."

Honeyed, hollow words. "Don't make me into the fool, Kylo. I've seen your concern for her—"

He punched the wall beside him. "I wasn't worried about her, stupid girl, I was worried about _you_!" he exploded. "She could've killed you—"

In a blink, she was in front of him, holding his own lightsaber to his throat. "Still think she could kill me? She couldn't even _touch me_."

His brow furrowed. "How—"

"I'm not the skinny thief from Coruscant anymore." She backed away from him again, putting much needed distance between them. Even now, his proximity made her feel…"Why should I trust you?" she demanded, defiant. "Why should I make myself vulnerable to you? You're always the one in control, Kylo, always the one demanding things of me when you can't offer _anything_ —"

"Ana," he said again. What right did he have to look so sad? "It will be...different. I see now, I see you. You will be at my side. Please."

The 'please' froze her in place. In three large, thundering steps—"Do you _ever_ walk gently, Kylo?" Ana murmured—he had her in his arms, and it was like there really were two different men. One was volatile and violent and rough with her, and the other was gentle and almost awed by her. She was worried, horribly worried, that _somehow_ she felt something for one of those men. The biggest problem was that, though it should've been an obvious choice, she couldn't figure out which one.

"Come back to me, Ana," he murmured into her hair. Her arms hung limp. "Come back _with_ me."

 _Oh, how the tables have turned._ Now she was the aloof one, _she_ was the one denying _him_ —she would be the one to wrap _him_ around her little finger for the sake of forwarding her goal. She didn't fight him when he kissed her, but nor did she reciprocate, too busy formulating her own plan to notice the slight tremor in his arms. She hoped his shoulder ached.

"I won't be second. I won't _share_ in your power, I will have my own, I will have _agency_ , Kylo."

His grip on her tightened. "If that's what you desire, nova—"

 _I won't have it because you allow it. I will have it because I will take it. I will demand it_.

"I'm...glad." His breath brushed her ear.

If he believed her to be genuine, to return whatever affection he thought he felt, what was the harm in that? It would only benefit her if he thought she had forgiven him. If she played into his fantasy of belonging. It was cruel, she supposed in a way, but nothing less than what was deserved. She let herself smile when he pulled away. She could play the long game. _As long as I don't lose myself._

* * *

 _Pain woke him._

 _Surroundings came into focus; not Hux's shuttle, then. Wider. Like a trooper transport._

 _"You're awake." Hux's voice. Numb and monotone. "About time. Supreme Leader would be cross if I let you die on my watch."_

 _Shoulder on fire. How…?_

 _"Ana, she—"_

 _"Seems our Ana is on the run again." Firm hand on his uninjured shoulder, pushing him down when he tried to sit up. "Stay put, you'll just stress the injury."_

 _"She's not our—"_

 _"She injured you, knocked you unconscious, and left you for the Resistance." Hux sounded so tired. "Do you really think she's yours?"_

 _"She left you, too."_

 _The memory, almost like the general was projecting it to him. His Ana, her hands on Hux, her lips pressed warmly to Hux—_

 _Fuck , his chest hurt._

 _She was gone for weeks._

 _Hux went through the motions. Robotic. He didn't look for her._

 _She appeared in a dream. Dressed in some kind of gown, the material shifting, black, iridescent like space and stardust._

 _She smiled. Touched his face, traced his scar._

 _Showed him a planet, ruins of a temple. A room in its twisting basement._

 _"Nova." Voice choked. " Why—"_

 _Why did you go? Why are you here now?_

 _"Shh." Her hand, cold. She wasn't looking at him anymore, and the black gown cocooned her—_

 _He left, didn't tell Hux. Found the planet. Found the ruins, the room. Found her._

 _Cocooned in shadow, just as his dream._

 _Then—_

 _Then—_

 _She—_

 _She absorbed them._

 _He could feel her power._

 _Her joy._

 _Intoxicating._

 _She was radiant._

 _She was glorious._

 _She is mine._

 _And I am…._

* * *

The _Finalizer_ wasn't exactly an unwelcome sight, evoking a twisted sense of nostalgia as they drew closer. Ana tried to fight her smirk as she breathed, ending her meditation. Perhaps he was right, about their bonding—it was so _easy_ to see him now, with just a little bit of concentration, to reach into the breach and see what he saw. He had been right, in a way; some part of her subconscious had sought him out through their bond and led him to her. She, in particular, was fond of that last sneaking thought he'd had as he saw her. She wondered if she could extend her barrier to him through their connection, if this could be used to shut out Snoke— _he_ would certainly be displeased with these new events, especially if he recognized the scope of it. _I can use this._

Kylo had reached for the lightsaber back on Ossus, but she took great joy in holding it out of his reach with a tutting sound, then dropping it beneath her foot. The metal made a satisfying crunch under her heel, and though she could see him seething with rage he had said nothing. It seemed it would take more goading for him to risk undoing their tentative "reconciliation." Still, that hadn't stopped him from brooding during the trip back, holding his broken saber hilt.

"How's Hux?" she asked suddenly as Kylo piloted, the strange guilt prodding at the edge of her mind. She wondered if Hux was angry with her, her brain supplying her the image of his betrayed expression and muddied uniform as she pushed him off the shuttle and into the rain. He was probably still stewing, she decided. At the very least.

Kylo's face soured instantly. _And he had looked so content for a moment there._

"Concerned about him?" he sneered. "About the effect of your little stunt?"

Ana refrained from rolling her eyes. _Don't engage._

"I knew about it before you showed me," he went on, knuckles white on the controls. "I didn't even have to pry. It was the only thing on his mind for _days_."

Ana was really trying to reel it in, she _was_ —

"How's your shoulder feel?" she quipped tightly, watching his mouth contort.

"I'd prefer if you didn't stab me in the future."

"I'd prefer a lot of things," she bit out, clenching her jaw. _Stay calm, you're going to ruin the plan before you even arrive back on the ship._

They docked and she disembarked to an armed escort, led by her favorite shiny captain.

"Phasma!" she said, smiling. "Miss me?"

"The general has requested her." Same formal tone as always. Ana sighed. Addressing the higher ranked individual first, how very official of her.

 _And just when I thought we might be sort of friends._

"He doesn't get a monopoly on her time," was Kylo's curt response, but Ana was through with being ignored.

"Tell the general I'll be in my quarters."

The change in Phasma's stance reflected her surprise.

" _Your_ quarters?" Kylo repeated dubiously.

"They haven't been repurposed, have they?" From the look on his face, they hadn't, and she continued on without giving them the opportunity to stop her. "No need to accompany me. I remember the way."

She left them, the pair utterly baffled, and went on down the hall. Her code even still worked, she noticed with amusement when the door instantly slid open for her. Everything about the room was unchanged. She wished briefly she had some of the more colorful clothes from Corellia, but that couldn't be helped. If Kylo could commission those dresses, however, she was sure she could get something new made. Something commanding.

The first thing she did was bathe. She undressed, her fingers first brushing against the scarring on her shoulder and then she took the talisman from her pocket. She scrounged a piece of leather cord from the room, looping it around the stone and knotting it into a pendant. She grasped it, its coolness a comforting presence now, but stopped herself from removing it, and showered with it still carefully around her neck.

The general was pacing the length of her room when she emerged from the 'fresher. She paused, towel covering her modesty, and said dully, "We really must talk about that override code."

"Where have you been all this time?" he demanded. "Ren said he found you in some backwater planet in the Adega system—"

"Then doesn't it stand to reason that's where I've been 'all this time'?" She used the back of her hand against his shoulder to move him to one side so she could reach her dresser. "Let me dress, Armitage."

His cheeks were blown red with his blush. "What were you doing out there, Ana? What was so important that you—" He stopped, biting his tongue.

"I _am_ sorry, for what it's worth," she said. For a moment as she dressed she caught him looking, but when she offered a smirk he turned around entirely.

"You said that before, too," he snapped. "What part are you apologizing for, precisely?"

She hesitated as she buckled her pants, and he seized on that hesitation.

"For completely botching what was supposed to be your rescue mission? For stabbing Ren with his own lightsaber and leaving me to fetch him like a dog with a stick?" His voice dropped an octave and she recognized the tone as barely-concealed hurt. "Or for using my feelings for you to steal my shuttle?"

She pulled a plain tank top over her head, not bothering to try and cover her shoulder. "Well, I'm certainly not sorry for stabbing him, so take your pick from the others, I suppose."

"Damnit, Ana! Do you have any idea how it felt to watch you fly off after that?" He had whirled on her, eyes wild and angry.

"Kylo asked me a similar question. You two are more alike than you care to think."

"Don't compare me to that blundering idiot," Hux snapped. "I'm far superior—"

 _Choose me_ , she heard in the subtext, and the next step of her plan solidified. Hux would be easier than Kylo. Almost all the work was done already.

"Oh," she said softly, stepping toward him and observing the way his breath caught. "You poor man."

Ana reached out for his face, her fingers curling around his chin to draw his eyes down to her. She watched his Adam's apple bob when he swallowed.

"What would you give, I wonder?" she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. "What would you give for me?"

His tongue darted out to wet his lips; she followed the movement with her eyes, and the effect was obvious when he spoke and his voice cracked.

"I wouldn't—" He seemed just about to deny, to let his pride surge forth and cover him like a protective shield, but he stopped. He swallowed again. She was standing close enough to smell the subtle fragrance of his aftershave. "I...I don't know."

"What would the proud general do," she continued, her voice low, almost as if she didn't care if he heard her or not, "for a taste of me?"

His hands twitched at his sides. She trailed her fingers down his arms before pulling his touch onto her hips, pressing his palms at the divet of her pelvis, and he made a keening noise in the back of his throat.

"Ana," he whispered.

"What do you want, Hux?" she asks. His grip on her hips tightened. This was a dangerous game. She'd have to shield this from Kylo. "Tell me."

" _Ana_."

"There's more than just me, isn't there?" She smiled, let her lips linger by his cheek. "Recognition, power. I can give you that."

"You?" He looked incredulous, fighting his desire. "How?"

"I can't tell you." She pressed a kiss to his jawline. "Will you trust me, Hux? When the time comes, will you trust me?"

His answer was an exhale: " _Yes._ "

 _Check._

* * *

A/N: I know I say this often, but I re-worked this chapter several times. I've been getting some really great comments, which I appreciate! (I've never read any Tumblr metas, what are those exactly?) Ana has a plan, is in control, and she's prepared to manipulate anyone she has to in order to orchestrate that plan. Her main concern is making sure that when she tries to manipulate Kylo, she doesn't lose sight of the plan because of him. Don't worry; she won't be making it easy for anyone!


	34. Best Laid Plans

A/N: Mature content in this chapter, readers advised!

* * *

She sent Hux away before anything got out of hand, the general mentioning that he wanted her at the next strategy meeting—he cited her experience as a Resistance prisoner as a thin excuse for wanting her near—and then sent a droid to ask for Kylo. He arrived as she thought he would, his indignance as a shield.

"I don't much like being _fetched_ ," he hissed. "Are you through with your precious _general_ now?"

"Yes," she answered simply, grinning when she felt the palpable uptick in his rage. "I think it's time I spoke with my _commander_."

He stepped into the room, doing his best impression of something fearsome. "I'm still waiting for an explanation. What were those shadows on Ossus? This new power, what is it and how did you—"

"You'll be waiting forever, dear Kylo. I don't believe you have the patience for that." She watched his eyes settle on the stone as it rested against her sternum. "I've come in to my own power and we'll be on equal footing from now on, and that's all you need to know."

He looked ready to argue with her, whole body tensed for the fight, and she diffused it by asking, "So, what's your plan?"

It worked, the anger leaving him in a whoosh as he responded, confused: "Plan?"

"For the Jedi girl." Ana sat on her bed, crossed her legs, and regarded him evenly. "And your mother. We can assume they'll abandon their base on whatever planet it was you snatched me from—where _was_ that, by the way?—if they haven't already. So what's the plan for dealing with them now?"

She yawned suddenly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "Though honestly, you should have let me kill the sand girl last time, and if you get in my way again you'll get a lot worse than a saber to the shoulder."

"Our weapons specialists are still trying to fix my lightsaber," he said gruffly, eyes now locked on the sliver of skin revealed between the hem of her tank top and the First Order regulation pants. "You nearly shattered the crystal."

She smiled, clicked her tongue. " _Oops_ ," she said blithely.

"Oops," he repeated. "Oops, she says."

"Your _plan_ , commander."

"Isn't combat theory supposed to be Hux's claim to fame? Isn't that why we keep the sniveling cur around?"

"It is," Ana said, shrugging. "The girl, though, he seems to have left entirely up to you. I'm sure Snoke is anxious for you to prove yourself against her, isn't that right?" She didn't miss the way his back stiffened. "We'll need to be clever to lure her out."

Kylo regarded her with a narrow gaze. "Why the sudden enthusiasm for the cause?"

"Not for the cause, just against the girl. Against the Jedi in general." Ana leaned back on her palms. "I wonder how Master Luke would feel, being dissected like a bug under a microscope. Very eager to find out."

Kylo's eyes widened at the name of his former master.

"Her goal, it seems, is a sort of recruitment of you. If you contact her with some hope that perhaps you'll switch sides, she'll probably lead you straight to them. A simple tracker in your boot and Hux and I can be at your location within an hour."

"Is this…" he asked haltingly, his fists clenching at his sides. "Is this what you and he talked about?"

 _So vulnerable, Kylo. So simple._ "What else would we talk about?" _So predictable,_ she thought as she felt his testing, curious presence at the edge of her mind. _I wonder…_ She imagined the general in her room as he had been, let the memory slide to the forefront, and made just a few simple adjustments. She waited to see if the false memory fooled him, the original hidden away, and masterfully covered her surprise when the tension left his shoulders and he breathed in relief.

"Good," he said quietly, almost to himself, and Ana smiled.

 _Good_ , she echoed.

"I imagine your master will want to hear the plan," said Ana, deflecting smoothly. "Hux and I would appreciate if you waited until after the next strategy meeting. Details to iron out before Snoke is bothered with you, you understand. And Hux does like his plans to be complete before informing your Supreme Leader." Somehow, she managed to say the title without a hint of bitterness. _Will wonders never cease?_

Kylo was nodding in time with her words. "You're truly on board for this, aren't you? You mean it this time, right?" He approached her slowly, like he expected her to bolt at any moment. "You won't just run off again?"

"I'm here now," she replied. "Isn't that what matters?"

She knew the look in his eyes, but he wasn't moving, holding himself back. He'd never before waited for _permission_ , not once, always barreling through her defenses like a fucking freighter—

 _I can't fucking believe this—_

But it wouldn't help her to show her anger. And she supposed it could be taken as a positive sign. A signal of her growing control.

She had to mirror his vulnerability somehow if she wanted to solidify his trust. He had to feel rewarded somehow, like a dog with a treat after it obeyed its owner.

"Let me tell you a story, Kylo."

The man swallowed.

"Once upon a time," she started, slow, "there was a girl and her father. He used to tell the girl stories about her mother, about love, about knights and good versus evil, but he was sick. One day, he forgot his stories, and when the girl tried to remind him, she realized he had forgotten her too."

Kylo was silent, but she saw the muscles working in his neck.

"The girl watched over her father until he was no longer himself, and when all his memories faded and he turned to dust, she was sent away to live with her grandmother. To her grandmother, her father had died of weakness, and so the girl was taught from a very young age to never be weak. She was trained, tortured, and molded to be strong. Fearless. She grew to be so fearless, in fact, that she even stopped fearing her strict grandmother."

Ana's mouth was dry. She had never told this story aloud. _This is necessary,_ she thought. _Just have to get through it. You're so much stronger than all of this now._ "Then, on a dark night when the girl was older…" Her voice caught and she began again. "When the girl was older, she crept into her grandmother's room late at night."

Kylo's face was unchanged, staring at her evenly while she spoke.

"She put a pillow over the cruel old woman's face and pressed down with all her strength. When her grandmother fought back, she sat on her chest and held her down until her legs stopped kicking and everything was deathly quiet."

She could have told the rest—how the authorities had come, how she'd run from them, how Ghrrik had found her and paid them off so they'd drop the charges and then acted like he _owned her_. But that, that one last moment of weakness, she wanted to keep.

Kylo hadn't said anything. How unlike him.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare at me, Kylo?"

He stepped up to her, towering over her— _stars, he was so tall_ —and he pulled off his gloves to touch her face with bare, trembling fingers.

"No more running, Ana," he whispered, and her body tensed— _How could he possibly know, she hadn't shown him that, he hadn't taken that, she was_ _sure_ —

"You're easy to read when you're upset," he said, his words familiar. He'd said them to her before. "I didn't see you running. But I know you did. I know _you_."

 _You don't know me, you don't know me at all._

"It doesn't make you a coward," he went on, and fuck, she just wanted him to stop talking. "You've never been a coward, nova."

 _You don't know me,_ _you don't know me_ —

Electricity crackled between their skin, visible when his hand moved from her face to her shoulder, lightning purple and writhing. From him or from her?

 _I am still the one in control, I will not let a man like him disarm me—_

"Ben is dead," he whispered into her hair. "He's never coming back. If he's what you're waiting for, if he's why you won't stay—"

"I don't know who he is," she interrupted. I don't know who I'd even be waiting for." She struggled against his grip, pointlessly, when he wrapped his arms tightly around her at her words. "Let me go."

"No."

"This doesn't change anything. I won't be a tool for Snoke, or Hux, or you." She was squeezing him, her nails digging into his skin through his clothes, and she hoped it hurt.

"I know, nova."

"I'm still going to kill that fucking Jedi girl—"

A sound almost like a chuckle slipped past his lips. "I know."

She snapped. "Well if you fucking already know then what was the point of all this, you rat bastard—"

He kissed her, and _stars above_ she hated him, she hated him so much. She squeezed her eyes shut and kissed him back. There was a softness to him this time, in the way he held her, in the way he touched her. He held her like she was a precious thing, a fragile thing.

 _I win, Kylo, I win._

The victory, though she would never admit it, tasted sour.

* * *

When he lowered her to her sheets, she nearly punched him in the nose. It took some concentration to allow it to happen, reassuring herself that a little indulgence would be fine. Nothing would come of it except a little released tension. She didn't expect the gentleness to carry over when he bedded her, and for a moment her resolve nearly crumbled.

His lips were everywhere on her skin, trailing down to the juncture of her thighs, nipping lightly at a spot on her pelvis. Her hips arched off the bed, out of her control, and his breath tickled when he exhaled a chuckle.

"Jumpy?" He licked a stripe along her thigh and her muscles twitched. "Or has it been a while?"

She pushed his head away, insulted. "You know how long it's been."

Kylo's eyes met hers and she saw the hesitation, the distrust, and she groaned.

"Honestly? You have the power to peek at someone's innermost thoughts and you _still_ think I slept with Hux?"

"He's been thinking about it," Kylo said in a growl. "Forgive me for not sorting through his fantasies to check if any are actually real."

"I didn't," she clarified, trying to close her legs.

He stopped her with a gentle touch, planting another kiss on her pelvic bone. "I'm...happy."

Then his mouth was on her and her hands flew to his hair, tangling in the soft strands. "Don't—You—Kylo—!"

He brought her to climax quickly. She tried to catch her breath, body limp.

"Where did that come from," she murmured, but his lips were otherwise occupied.

He set himself back to her pleasure before she had even fully recovered, his mouth working assuredly over her overstimulated sex until it was borderline painful. When she came a third time she was on the brink of sobbing, pushing weakly at his shoulders and begging him to stop. He kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her neck, and dipped his fingers into her and then she really did sob, scrabbling for something to ground her as the man relentlessly coaxed her to broken, shaking ecstasy. It was sadistic, truly, he was torturing her, bringing her back to the brink before she was allowed to let her previous orgasm wash over her. He didn't seem happy, as he'd claimed, he seemed almost angry—He _was_ angry, she could tell; not at her, but at himself. His denial of her, even while watching her writhe and moan and gasp for him, was as much a punishment for himself as it was for her.

She felt some of her dignity slip away as she grabbed for his hand, rubbing firmly at her clit, and rasped, "Let me rest or get inside me...I c-can't..."

He stilled completely over her, and there was a look of open surprise on his face. "Nova," he breathed, and her responding breath shuddered in her chest.

 _He hadn't expected the acceptance._

 _He hadn't expected anything tonight beyond her pleasure._

That set a heavy knot in the pit of her stomach even as he rested his weight against her and aligned himself with her. _What exactly is happening here?_

But then his hand was cupping her face and he was groaning against her neck, his breath hot on her skin, and he was going so slowly, taking such care with her sensitive nub and pleasure-weakened frame, looking at her like she was a _blessing_ —If only it had been like this from the beginning—If it had always been like this—

 _Things would have been so different if it had been like this at the start._

He reached out to her with the Force and she saw _galaxies_ when she came, and he was right behind her with a guttural growl of her name. His arm tightened around her even as the other blindly reached for the top sheet to tuck around them, and the intimacy frightened her.

In the aftermath, their limbs tangled together while an apparently exhausted Kylo dozed with his head on her chest, she ran her fingers through his hair and realized how dangerous this was.

 _I don't know what act you're putting on, Kylo, but I have to stick to my plan. It's too little too late._

* * *

A/N: Sorry this took a while, I've been working out some kinks with Ana's story and nailing down her interactions with Kylo with the new power dynamic!

As always, thank you in advance for reading, reviewing, and following!


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